Bound by Principle
by coupdepam
Summary: Sam writes a statement for the Colombian government but a Colombian drug cartel decides to use it and Sam for their own ends.
1. Default Chapter

**Chapter One**

Ginger looked up in surprise at the sound coming from Sam's office. She stopped typing and peered around the monitor in front of her.

"For today in this arena," Sam sung as he stood up and placed the lid on his pen. "Summoned by a stern subpoena," he continued as he walked over to the bookcase and squeezed a file back into its space. "Edwin, sued by Angelina," Sam picked up a pile of scrunched up paper from his desk, "shortly," he threw one ball of paper into the bin, "will," another missile found its target, "appear."

"Hey! Domingo, will you come in here please," Toby called from his office. From his tone, it was clear that Domingo wasn't a term of endearment.

Sam walked past Ginger and flashed a grin at her before adopting a more serious countenance for Toby's benefit, "You know, you should be grateful that your staff are happy in their work," Sam pointed out.

"I am grateful, I just don't want to have to listen to them expressing their joy in song." Toby took the papers that Sam held out to him. "It's finished?"

"It's definitely in the penultimate draft stage, maybe even the final draft stage." Sam sat on the sofa and waited for Toby to comment. The Colombian dinner, at which the President was to deliver a speech in front of President Miguel, the President of Colombia, was only days away and the section about how Bartlet was going to support him in his fight against the drug cartels had been one of the major headaches of the past few weeks.

"You've cracked it," Toby announced and handed the sheets back to Sam. "Good work," he added and looked back at the work on his desk. He didn't need to look up to know that Sam would be smiling.

Sam hadn't been back in his office long when Leo appeared at the door. "I saw you on Capital Beat this morning," he said as he walked over to Sam's desk.

"You watched it?" Sam asked surprised.

"Well, no, Margaret told me. The assistants have this necktie sweep-stake thing going on, so she watched it." Leo continued to speak while Sam looked down at his tie, a perplexed expression on his face. "When you go to the Colombian Embassy, make sure that you're clear that we are not going to get involved with the specifics of the drug cartels."

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"We're talking general, financial and military support. We're not going on a witch hunt of Colombia's most wanted."

"I hear you," Sam said.

"I don't want to see any names in that statement. How's it coming anyway?"

"It's good. We're nearly there now, I think." Sam had been working on the Statement of Aims with representatives from the Colombian government for the past month. The Colombian President had vowed to wage war on the drug cartels that were destroying the country and the Bartlet administration had vowed to help him. Meeting with the representatives had placed Sam in a high profile position. The Statement of Aims was to be published during a week of various meetings and events which would culminate at a State Dinner with the President reinforcing the government's intention to help President Miguel.

Today would be the last day that Sam would go to the embassy to work on the statement. The decision for the meetings to take place there had emphasized the role of the Colombian government in the process. Sam had been chosen for his diplomatic and writing skills primarily but the fact that he was a popular figure in the media and could speak fluent Spanish also helped.

"You've done well, Sam."

"Thanks, Leo. It must be Praise Sam Day today and I for one am enjoying it."

"Okay, well, that's nice for you," Leo said and headed into Toby's office.

As soon as he was gone Sam called for Ginger and Bonnie. They stood in front of his desk, he walked behind them, shut the door and then walked slowly back to his desk. "Neckties?"

Ginger and Bonnie exchanged glances before Ginger replied, "It's just that you…we noticed that you…you nearly always wear the same tie on Capital Beat."

Sam picked up the end of his tie and studied it. "Well, I don't."

"You do, Sam," Bonnie replied. "The first few times we thought it was coincidence but then, after the fifth time, we decided to start keeping a book."

"I've bet correctly every time you've worn the 'Beat Tie-" Ginger started but Sam interrupted her.

"The Beat Tie?"

Ginger pointed to the tie around his neck. Bonnie picked up the explanation, "I like to vary my bets. One of these days I think you're going to go with a striped one."

"I'm forty dollars up at the moment," Ginger added.

"Well, I'm going to throw a few spanners in the works. From now on there'll be no more predictable neck wear from me. You might want to open up the categories. A bowtie isn't out of the question."

Before Ginger could complain that this would make the odds more complicated, Toby entered the room. "What's going on? What's the problem?"

"We're discussing Sam's recent television appearances," Ginger explained.

"What's going on?" Josh leaned around the doorjamb.

"We're discussing Sam's recent whoring of himself on national television," Toby explained.

"Hey!" Sam objected. "While it's true that my involvement with the Statement of Aims has led to quite a lot of media interest and necessitated my appearance on a number of primetime news and current event shows, which, I may add can only help to highlight the importance that this administration is placing on the process, I think saying that I have been whoring myself is going a little too far."

"How many shows have you been on?" Josh asked.

"Okay, all I've done is Washington Week in Review, Face the Nation, Newsnight, Capital Beat and Crossfire." Sam looked at the four people gathered round his desk. "On the face of it, I admit, it appears that I may in danger of becoming a media whore. But it's all good. I'm presenting a side to the debate that needs to be aired in the public arena. For example, Toby, did you watch Capital Beat this morning?"

"Yes. Am I still up, Ginger?" Toby asked.

"Yep."

"Good," Toby turned to Sam. "Don't start spicing things up, I'm on a winning streak." Toby walked out of the office, swiftly followed by Josh, Bonnie and Ginger. Sam muttered something about spicing things up and got back to his work.

"Hey! Wait up," Josh ran down the corridor after Sam. "Are you headed over to the Embassy?"

"Yeah, I'm running late actually."

"I'll walk you out."

By the time Sam had got to the exit, he and Josh had agreed that he would phone when he knew he would be finished so that Josh could pick him up. Then it would be an evening of beer, pizza and the sports channel.

Sam called goodbye but then turned back. "Did you watch Capitol Beat this morning?"

"No, Donna did, why?"

"No, nothing."

Josh let Sam walk a few steps before he called out, "If you wear the yacht club tie, I'm going to clean up." He took the steps two at a time so that when Sam turned around, he was gone.

"That's 121 kidnappings a month, or about four a day, and you think we don't need to say who's responsible for that?" Sam's Colombian counterpart sat with his pen poised eager to list all of the groups working against the Colombian Government.

"We've made all the points we need to make, and we don't need to name names to make them. We're supporting you, but we're not going to get involved with targeting specific groups or cartels." Sam closed his laptop to show that he was finished.

"I have to keep asking, Sam."

"I know, and I have to keep answering no." Sam finished packing away his work and then held out his hand. One by one, the three men he had been working with for the past few months shook it.

The last man held Sam's hand in both of his. "It has been a…I was going to say a pleasure working with you, but it has been an honour. You are a fine writer, Sam."

Sam smiled warmly at the three men. "El honor era el mío," he replied and suddenly realising he would miss sitting in the plush surroundings of the Embassy, working with the three officials, he shook their hands again.

Sam walked out of the building and stood under the awning. It was a sunny day with a slight breeze in the air which he welcomed after spending the last few hours in a stuffy room. As much as he would miss working at the Embassy, he was glad that the rest of the week would be spent at the White House. The Statement was to be read out next week, with the Colombian Dinner two days later. With two important speeches coming up, Sam knew the next two days and most likely the weekend would be hard work.

He put all thoughts of the rest of the week to the back of his mind and focused on his plans for the evening. He scanned the sidewalk for Josh, and finally saw him having a heated discussion. As Sam walked a little closer he saw the other man was Toby. It had been a long time since the three of them had spent any social time together and so Sam called out a warm greeting and quickened his pace towards them.

Josh turned when he heard Sam call and waved distractedly. He was in the middle of a debate with Toby about the possible result of tonight's game. Sam was close enough to hear Toby yell, "But they don't do that, if they did they wouldn't keep losing!" when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Hi, I'm really late for a meeting and I can't make sense of this damn street map. Do you know where the Hilton is?"

Sam glanced at Josh who had clearly found no suitable response to Toby and now stood waiting impatiently for Sam to join them.

"Is it the Capital Hilton or the Hilton Washington? The Capital is down town but the Washington is just up here a little further," Sam explained.

"Oh crap, I don't know. Hold on, I've got the address somewhere." The man fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Sam saw Josh was gesturing at him to hurry up. He looked back at the man who was carefully unfolding the paper. Sam was getting impatient too and couldn't understand why the man was being so fastidious about opening it up.

Toby was now looking at Sam too and pointing at his watch, it was the last thing Sam saw clearly before a cloud of dust was blown into his face. The man beside him scrunched up the paper that had contained the dust and shoved it into his pocket. Sam rubbed at his eyes and tried to make sense of what had happened. The man now held his arm in a tight grip, he only had time to call out to Josh before he started to feel the effects of whatever it was that had been blown in his face.

He could see Josh running towards him and tried to take a step forwards but his legs gave way beneath him. Sounds were muffled, his vision was blurred and he could hardly keep upright. He wasn't aware of the second man holding him up, or the gun that was pointed at his head. His field of vision allowed him to just make out Josh running towards him and then suddenly stop.

Toby had grabbed at Josh and stopped him when he saw the van screeching to a halt behind Sam. Josh tried to shake free but at the same time one of Sam's captors produced a gun and even if Toby hadn't been holding him Josh still would have found himself frozen at the sight of it.

The van door was opened and the two men dragged a semi-conscious Sam towards it. Josh shouted helplessly at Toby to do something, but all he could do was stand and watch as the door to the van was closed and it sped off.

For a moment neither of them moved. Toby still had hold of Josh and he was scrunching the material of Josh's jacket tightly in his fist. He could feel Josh's heartbeat beneath it. He let go and Josh stumbled slightly before he found his feet.

Toby felt a swell of nausea and swallowed a few times. He knew he had to do something, Josh had yelled at him to do something, but for the moment he couldn't work out what it was.

A woman, who had watched the whole thing happen, ran towards Toby. "I'll call the police," she offered breathlessly.

On hearing her words Toby sprung into action. Phone people- that's what he needed to do. Call Leo, call Ron, do something. He fished in his pocket for his cell phone and glanced at Josh who was leaning against his car taking deep breaths. Toby made sure the woman had phoned the police and then pressed Leo's number. He walked over to Josh and leant against the car as he waited for Margaret to pick up. Josh turned to look at him. Toby kept his gaze fixed on the woman but he placed a hand on Josh's shoulder.

Margaret didn't knock, that was the first sign that something was wrong. The look on her face was the second. "Line two," was all she said and Leo grabbed the phone, dreading the news that awaited him on the other end.

Josh wanted to go, he couldn't do anything here. He wanted to go back to the White House. He had talked to two policemen and three agents, he had sat uselessly in his car while Toby talked to them and now he wanted to go. He walked towards Toby and waited for the agent to finish talking. "Toby, we need to go back to the office. We can't do anything here."

"We can't do anything there either, go wait in the car," Toby said irritably and realising that was the sort of thing you told a child he added. "I need to make sure I've told them everything I can remember. Wait for me in the car, I won't be long."

Josh walked away and ignored the calls from the press who had already gathered in large numbers around the police tape.

A few minutes later Toby walked over to the car and pulled their belongings from the back seat. "We're going back with an agent. Leave your keys on the seat."

Josh tried to steady his hands as he attempted to separate the car key from the ring.

"Slow down," Toby said quietly as if it was speed rather than Josh's shaking hands that was to blame for his fumbling. Eventually he achieved his task and followed Toby over to another car. Two agents sat waiting inside it.

The journey back to the White House was mostly spent in silence. Twice, Josh told the agents that he thought he had left his backpack in his car and both times Toby told him that he'd picked it up.

They walked to the Communications Bullpen in silence and were greeted with silence. Ginger, Bonnie and the other staffers stood around their desks. They watched Toby go into his office and shut the door. Josh walked on to his office and did the same.

Toby called for Ginger as he came out of his office. He was only discarding his coat, but he needed a few moments before facing Leo and Ron. "Have you got hold of his parents?"

"I'm on it, Toby. Can I get you anything?"

Toby was walking away but at Ginger's question he turned back towards her. "No," he answered before returning once more to practicalities. "Some agents will be coming down to go through Sam's things. Collect anything he was working on that's in my office or out here and show them it as well." Ginger watched Toby walk away and then set about her task, relieved to be doing something to help.

Donna stood in Josh's doorway and watched as he dropped his bag on his chair and hung up his coat. He walked behind his desk and straightened the papers then picked up a pen, opened his top drawer and threw it inside.

"Josh, Leo's waiting." Donna knew that Josh was aware of that but she also knew that if she left him alone he would still be tidying his office this time tomorrow. "It's happening, whether you stay in here or not."

Josh's looked swiftly up at her. "I just need a minute…I just need to…" He looked back down at his desk, took a deep breath and then straightened. He glanced at Donna and then walked past her and out of his office.

There was an old curtain hanging from a boarded up window above the bed where Sam lay. The faded pattern on it matched a pillow that lay on the floor in the corner. They were the only remnants of a room that was once decorated with care, but now housed only a bed, sink and wardrobe.

Sam opened his eyes slowly and then shut them again. He felt like he always did when he'd been out drinking but this time he couldn't even remember where he had been or who he had been drinking with. His head throbbed and his stomach was lurching. The smell was the first thing that alerted him to the fact that he wasn't at home. The room was damp and as well as the smell of it, the cold began to seep through Sam's foggy mind. He opened his eyes again, this time squinting at his surroundings. The large brown object in front of him swayed violently and he shut his eyes tight again, taking deep breaths to quell the growing nausea.

Sam didn't know where he was but he knew he was frightened. He knew this situation wasn't the consequence of a good night out. He couldn't remember anything. He just knew he was frightened.

Nobody was sitting down in Leo's office. It had been four hours since Josh and Toby had seen Sam taken. They had spent some time in Leo's office with Ron going over what had happened. No calls had been made, no groups had claimed responsibility. So far, no one knew who had taken Sam or why. Toby had gone back to his office but the sight of the agents rifling through Sam's desk had been too much for him and after sitting in the Mess for a while, he had returned to Leo's office where he had been ever since. Josh had wandered around the West Wing ignoring the stares of his co-workers. He ended up at CJ's office.

She was on the phone, trying to find out what the media knew so far about Sam's abduction. Josh leant against the doorjamb and listened to her. Carol came to the door and when CJ saw the look on her face she quickly hung up the phone.

"Leo wants both of you." She turned to Josh, "They know who took Sam."

When CJ and Josh arrived in Leo's office they found Toby, Ron and two agents standing around the desk.

"FARC have just called the Washington Post. Can you believe it? They called the Post to tell them that they had Sam." Leo was fuming. He wrote something down on a piece of paper, called for Margaret and handed it to her. Everyone waited knowing he would continue when he had calmed down. "They want two rebel Colombian prisoners freed. Their trial is due to take place this Friday and they want them released before then."

Josh sat down next to Toby and dragged a hand through his hair. "Which we're not going to do," he said to himself more than to anyone in the room. "Did they say how long…" his voice tailed off but the ending of his sentence was clear.

"They said they would contact the White House within twenty-four hours, apart from that I don't know." Leo looked to Ron for confirmation.

"They'll have more structured requests when they contact us," Ron offered. "We just have to wait now."

Another agent appeared at the door and Ron went to talk to him. Toby sat on the sofa and continued to stare down at the space below his clasped hands. Leo sat back behind his desk and pretended to be reading. CJ reached beside her and silently took Josh's hand. She felt hers squeezed in response.

Sam opened his eyes again. This time the sense of fear was with him on waking. He didn't need to try to make sense of his surroundings. He knew that wherever he was, he wasn't safe. He lifted his hand to wipe at his eyes and found that his hands were bound. On closer examination he realised that his tie, the object of so much ribbing that morning, must have been used to bind them. They were now secured with rope but his tie was still wrapped around one of his wrists. He wondered dryly if Ginger had taken bets on that.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door being unlocked. He tensed as he listened to the key being turned and closed his eyes. One…two…three steps and he was being pulled upwards and dragged towards the sink. He struggled, but then he saw the guns. One of the men had one in a holster and the other held one in his hand. Both men were dark haired and unkempt looking. They stank of alcohol and cigarettes. Sam swallowed hard against the bile that rose in his throat, as one of the men leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "Time to wake up, Sam. We need you all nice and alert." His head was violently pushed downwards and into the sink which was filled with cold water. Taken by surprise, Sam choked as the water went into his nose and mouth. The men held him down for what seemed like minutes and then pulled him up only to submerge his head again before Sam had managed to get his breath back. This was repeated four more times until the men were convinced that the shock of the water had allowed Sam to shake off any effects of the scopolamine that had been used to drug him only five hours earlier.

His captors spoke to each other in Spanish and carried on their conversation as they dragged Sam into the kitchen of the house. The kitchen was decorated and furnished as sparsely as the bedroom. Sam had been pushed into a chair at the table and more or less ignored. There were three men in the kitchen. The two who had brought him from the bedroom were having an animated conversation with a third man. He was much neater looking than his two companions and was clearly in charge. He stood smoking and listening to their debate, occasionally he glanced at Sam.

Sam was looking at anything but the room's other occupants. He looked at the portable TV that was sitting on top of the counter. There was a pile of food by the side of it, including four loaves of bread. Sam tried to work out how many days that would last the three men. He wondered if he would be killed when the bread ran out.

Sam could feel his leg shaking and he placed his foot firmly on the ground. He felt a swell of nausea rise again and silently prayed that he wouldn't throw-up in front of these men.

The men were silent now. Their heated debate had come to an end and by the looks on their faces it hadn't been resolved. The other man took a final draw on his cigarette and tossed it into the sink. He walked over to the table and sat down opposite Sam.

Sitting on the table was Sam's cell and next to it a cell phone nearly three times the size. Sam thought it must be at least five or six years old. "This is your cell phone, yes?" the man asked Sam without looking at him.

"Yes." It was the first thing Sam had said since he had been taken and his voice was croaky. He watched as the man's nicotine stained fingers tapped on the keys of his phone.

His fingers paused, "Who is Josh?"

"No one…just a friend."

Sam hadn't seen the other man walk up beside him and so when the punch came it took him completely by surprise. He was knocked off his chair by the force of it. The chair was righted and Sam was dumped back onto it. He wanted to rub his jaw, but he didn't want to show them he was in pain.

"That was my mistake," the man sitting at the table apologised, "I asked you the wrong question. What I meant was, is this the number for Josh Lyman, the Deputy Chief of Staff?"

"Yes," Sam clenched his hands in his lap.

"Let's see," the man continued as he scrolled through the numbers, "Karen…Leo cell…Leo office…Leo home…Mom…Michelle…Taxi 1…Taxi 2…Toby office…Toby home…Toby cell. Is that Toby Ziegler?"

"Yes." Sam still didn't know why he had been taken or by whom, but he knew now that whoever they were, they weren't amateurs.

"Your cell phone is a who's who of Washington, Sam. So let me see…" the nicotine brown fingers tapped the keys once more. "Ah, yes, Leo cell must be Leo McGarry." The man put his feet up on the table and lit another cigarette. He picked up the antiquated cell phone. "Let's give him a call."


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Leo had given up on the pretence of reading and was sitting back in his chair looking at his staff. They could all hear the President next door talking to Ron. Leo thought about how the President had referred to Sam and Josh as his sons once, and he started to think about Sam's parents. He was about to ask Josh if he knew if they were coming to Washington, when his cell phone rang. He reached into his pocket and glanced at the display. He mumbled something and then yelled for Margaret to get Ron, before he pressed answer and held the phone to his ear.

"Who is this?" Leo asked.

Josh stood up and walked over to Leo's desk, arriving the same time as Ron.

"Let me talk to Sam?" Leo said. Toby and CJ were standing now and the President had followed Ron into the room. "That isn't going to happen, you can talk to me…yes…yes. Can I speak to him…how do I know that?" Josh spun away and walked to the other side of the room. "Well tell me, and then we can see about where we go from there." Leo started to scribble notes down. "I understand. You don't need to spell that out to me. I think I'm aware of what you plan to do." There was silence and then Leo switched off his phone and put it down slowly on his desk.

"It's just what they said to the Post. They want the two Colombian prisoners released before their trial." Leo sighed and sat down again. "They also want the President to announce that he is unable to offer any military or financial support to President Miguel. They said Sam is alive but they wouldn't let me speak to him."

"He's all they've got," Ron reasoned.

"So he's not…I mean they're…if he was already…" For the second time that day Josh felt Toby's hand on his shoulder and let himself be guided back towards the sofa.

The President came and sat down beside him. "I don't negotiate with terrorists. You know that, the media knows that and every terrorist group in the world knows that but still they…" His voice trailed off and Josh looked swiftly up at him. "We all know that, Josh, we knew it when we started here and although I don't think anyone here thought we would have to put it to the test, that's what we're doing now and the position doesn't change. I won't negotiate. But that doesn't mean that there aren't other avenues we can explore, does it, Ron."

"No Sir, it doesn't," Ron said and smiled encouragingly at him.

"I'm sorry…I'm going to throw up," Josh mumbled as he leapt from his seat and rushed from the room.

The tall man placed Sam's phone back on the table and smiled at him. "And let the games begin." He walked over to the other two men and started telling them in Spanish that everything was going according to plan and that they needed to lighten up.

Sam could understand every word. When they had finished speaking, he sat up as straight as he could. "El Presidente no negociará." He told them. It earned him another punch, but Sam thought it was worth it.

The agents hadn't finished in Sam's office by the time Toby returned. He sat at his desk and watched through the dividing window as they passed to and fro. Ginger came into his office and told him that she was still trying to get hold of Sam's parents. When she had left, Toby walked over to the window and watched the agents work. Files and papers lay strewn over Sam's desk. One agent sat reading them, occasionally adding some to a separate pile. Another man sat opposite the desk browsing the files on Sam's laptop. Toby walked out of his office and stood in the doorway to Sam's.

"Did Ginger give you everything you needed?" Toby asked.

"She gave us some documents from the Bullpen and your office. I think we've got it all, thank you, Mr Ziegler." Toby turned away and started back to his office but was called back. "Mr Ziegler, do you have a key to Sam's apartment?"

"No, I don't, Josh Lyman…he's his…Josh Lyman will have one." Toby walked away from the sight of Sam's orderly office being turned upside down; the sight of his world being turned upside down.

Sam lay curled on his side, facing the wall. He tried not to think about what would be happening at the White House. He had told his captors that the President wouldn't negotiate and he knew it was true. The thought that they were unable to help was a chilling one. He told himself that he knew that the President would do all he could to get him out, but he also knew that in reality there was very little he could do. Sam decided to try not to think of anything. He started to list Congressmen in his head. He started with Abercrombie…Acevedo…Ackerman…Aderholt, but then he had to go back to Acevedo as the thought that he was going to die here kept intruding on his attempts to think of nothing at all. Akin…Alexander…Allen…Andrews…Baca. Sam congratulated himself for getting to the B's without stopping, but he was unable to carry on with his list. The thought that he was going to die had taken hold and he could think of nothing else. He told himself that if that was the case, he would show them no fear, he wouldn't beg, he wouldn't plead with them. Sam felt encouraged by the thought that, even though he was bound and held captive, he could find some way to fight back. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sound of shouting coming from the room next door. Bachus…Baird…Baker…Baldwin…

Josh's string of paper clips numbered over fifty. He had been working on it for quite some time. The cleaner had picked a few stray ones off the floor and handed them silently to him before vacuuming his office.

Toby stood in the doorway and watched Josh looping the metal shapes together.

"We're going to get a pizza or something."

"A pizza! Jesus, Toby!" The paperclips that he had been holding scattered across the desk.

"Right, Josh, let's stop eating, that's a good idea, because then we can all be wrecks when Sam gets back."

Josh snorted and opened his mouth to respond but then changed his mind. He wanted to tell Toby that he didn't think Sam was coming back. That he couldn't see how that was going to happen. But he knew it was fear talking, and he knew Toby wouldn't be very receptive to that right now. Instead, he brushed the paperclips back into the pot, grabbed his coat and followed him out of his office.

The pizza was on the house. The owner, who knew them well, insisted on it. Josh twirled the cheese around his fork. It had long since gone cold and was less stringy than it had been when he had started playing with the food rather than eating it.

"I've eaten pizza four times this week," CJ announced. Toby and Donna appreciated the attempt at starting a conversation but didn't reply. "I don't think pizza's like fruit, I don't think you're meant to eat five portions a day."

"I think we could have stopped them," Josh said. "I've been going over and over it, and I think we could have stopped them. I should have realised something was wrong…that man…the way he was unfolding that paper, and I think Sam knew too…if we'd done something then it wouldn't have happened…we could have done something to stop it." Josh had stared at his plate while he had been talking and he continued to stare at it.

"Are you talking about this afternoon or telling me about a movie you've just watched?" Toby asked incredulously. "You're describing things that we had a split second to react to, and anyway, in case it had escaped your notice, they had guns!" Toby's voice was rising dangerously. "By the time we'd realised something was wrong it was too late, didn't you see the big black van that pulled up and the two men that got out of it, the two men who were wearing masks and, by the way, had guns!" Toby shouted the last two words so loudly, that the other diners stopped talking and started to stare.

Josh stood up and reached past Donna for his coat. "Yeah, okay."

"Josh?" Toby said quietly.

"I said okay. I'm going to walk around for a while…get some air. I'll see you back at the office."

CJ watched him go and then turned to Toby. "I bet you've been thinking exactly the same thing as Josh."

"Yeah, but I know without a doubt that if I hadn't have stopped Josh this morning, you and Donna would probably be sitting here alone right now."

CJ placed a hand on Toby's arm. "I don't think we'd have gone for a pizza if you and Josh had died, but I get your meaning."

Toby smiled and stood up. "Come on, let's head back." He left a large tip on the table and all three of them walked slowly back to the White House. They talked about anything they could think of, because not one of them wanted to think about what might be happening to Sam.

The men's voices drifted into the bedroom. Sam was sitting against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest. Listening to the conversation, Sam now knew that his captors' names were Mael, Incul and Javier. He thought the man who seemed in charge was Javier, but he couldn't be sure. He was certainly quieter that the other two men and his name hadn't been spoken as much as theirs.

Sam lowered his head onto his knees and closed his eyes. He thought about going to lie down but he didn't want to leave his space on the floor. He felt safer somehow, facing the door, sat curled up with his back to the wall. Sam looked up as the voices suddenly stopped. He could hear the kitchen door opening and footsteps outside his room. He could tell that two of the men were walking away and heard the sound of a door being opened and closed further down the hall. Silence followed, then the sound of something being dragged towards his room. Silence came again, and then the occasional sound of a bottle being placed on the floor and the rustle of a packet. Sam sat frozen for a long time. Eventually, he couldn't hear the bottle being placed on the floor or the packet rustling. Only when the sound of snoring drifted into the room, did Sam feel safe enough to go and lie down on the bed.

It wasn't the voices outside his room that woke Sam, but the beer bottle being knocked over, rolling along the floor and landing against the wall with a loud clunk. Sam sat up. The men laughed, the laughter of one them fading as he walked down the corridor. Sam didn't move and stayed sitting upright until once again there was silence. He lay down again and focused on his breathing. Ginger had taught him a relaxation exercise once but he couldn't remember it now. He settled for closing his eyes and trying to take slow, deep breaths. Sam didn't hear the key being turned in the lock, or the door being opened. It was only when the light from outside burst into the room that he opened his eyes and sat up quickly.

He squinted against the light as the figure moved towards him. Remembering the pledge he had made that he wouldn't show any fear, he didn't make a sound when he was dragged from the bed and dumped onto the floor. He tried to stand but his bound hands made it difficult to balance. The man didn't say a word, which made his presence all the more sinister. Sam made it to his knees, just before the first blow sent him hurtling back to the floor. He kicked out, but only managed to make his attacker lose his balance. When he had regained it, he kicked Sam in the stomach. Sam moaned but still struggled to his knees again. The man laughed as if he was impressed with Sam's efforts. He grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Sam's head back, "You're a fighter. Good. I like to fight."

The next blow sent Sam reeling back towards the bed, and Sam used it to once more help himself upright. He could feel and taste the blood that trickled down his face. He was grateful that the next three blows came in quick succession as he didn't think he had the strength to try to get up again. The man walked towards the open door and lit a cigarette. He stood smoking and watching Sam who eventually managed to crawl along the bed and climb back onto it. The man tossed the butt into the sink that still contained the water that had been used to wake Sam earlier. It sizzled, the door was closed and Sam was in silence and darkness once more.

Josh had slept at his desk and had woken to the sound of his phone ringing. When the call was finished, he went to find Toby and found him standing in the doorway to Sam's office.

"Do you think they got everything they needed?" Josh asked sarcastically as he took in the piles of paper that now cluttered Sam's desk.

Toby nodded towards his office and Josh followed him. "I just spoke to Sam's father." Josh started as he sat down, "He's going to stay in California until there's more news. Sam's mother is going to do the same. He said to tell you thanks for offering to sort out the flights and hotels. That was nice of you, by the way."

"Yeah, listen, I spoke to Ron this morning. They're not completely in the dark. There's been some intelligence about Colombian activity in Washington for some time now. I'm not saying they know where Sam is but they at least have places they can start to try and track these people down." Toby sat back and waited for Josh to answer. He had hoped the news would give Josh some hope or at least a little comfort, but Josh didn't look hopeful or comforted.

"I could have reached him in time-"

"Josh! We've been over this."

"He looked up at me, he knew something was wrong. He looked at me and I just wanted to go watch the game. If I'd gone over and got him, that man would have probably just walked away." Josh got up and walked over to the window.

Toby waited before answering, "You know, when you think of it, this is all Sam's fault. I mean, why didn't he walk away? Why didn't he call for help? He must have known that there was a debilitating powder in that piece of paper. What was he thinking just standing there letting them take him? Why didn't he fight back?"

Josh sighed and turned to face Toby. "Reverse psychology, clever. It hasn't worked."

Toby shook his head. "No, I didn't think it would. I have other tactics I can try, it just needs-" Toby stopped in mid sentence as the sight of someone in Sam's office caught his eye. Through the window he could see Larry sitting down behind Sam's desk. "What are you doing?" Toby bellowed through the window before walking out of his office and into Sam's.

"Sam was working on an opposition paper for Leo. He asked me to find it and see how far he had got," Larry explained but seeing the look on Toby's face he had already moved away from the desk.

"Leo asked you?"

Larry glanced at Josh, but he looked just as upset as Toby. "Yes, but I don't think he…" Toby had already spun round and was headed for Leo's office, closely followed by Josh.

Leo had known they would come, he was waiting for them. He listened to Josh somehow managing to accuse him of acting as if Sam wasn't coming back, without referring to Sam or the kidnap at all. Toby followed on and complained that Sam would just have to do it all again when he did come back. Leo stood and listened to the two irate men. While he waited for them to calm down, he realised that they had both revealed to him how they were going to cope with what was happening. Josh was going to live in fear, afraid to mention what might happen in case it came true. Toby was going to act as if Sam returning to them was an absolute certainty and the only problems that his absence and return would cause, were work related.

"We have to keep going. It's as simple as that. If either of you feel you are unable to do your jobs then we can sort something out, but that isn't going to help anyone. Josh, when you were in hospital, being operated on, Sam was doing the morning shows. I know one thing for sure, wherever he is now, he's not giving up, and I think if he knew that you two were carrying on like this about who was doing his work he'd be none too happy. So, let's get back to work, shall we!"

A few miles away, Sam lay on his side watching a spider make its way along the bed. He followed its progress along the coarse material and then along the metal head rail. When it had disappeared from view, Sam turned onto his back. The sudden pain made him wince. It was difficult to manoeuvre with his hands bound, but he managed to place his hands so that he could feel along his chest. He had broken a rib once before playing hockey and he recognised the pain now. He wasn't surprised, as he felt along his rib cage, when one appeared to give way beneath his touch. "Shit," Sam muttered, slowly sitting up. The room was cold and damp and Sam wasn't sure if his aching chest was due to that, his broken rib or simply anxiety. He rested his hands on his lap and leant against the head rail. He took a deep breath in, but it seemed to catch in his throat and resulted in a fit of coughing, which only served to worsen the pain caused by the broken rib.

He didn't hear the door being opened and jumped when it suddenly swung wide to reveal Incul standing with a plate of food. He walked over and put the plate on the floor, then grabbed Sam's chin and pulled his head up. He turned Sam's head from side to side as if admiring the bruises that he had made last night. He pushed Sam's head away and without saying a word, left the room. Sam sat on the bed breathing deeply. The anger he felt at the helplessness of his situation was matched only by his fear. When he calmed down, he bent over and picked up the plate. He recognised pasta but that was the only identifiable part of the meal. Eventually he worked out a system of wedging the plate between his leg and the pillow so that he could spoon the food off with his bound hands. By the time he took his first mouthful the dinner was stone cold.

The President sat on the sofa in the Oval Office. He had a pile of files on his lap, and was holding one in his hand, but he wasn't reading it. Next door, Leo was doodling an intricate pattern next to his unfinished crossword in that morning's paper. Toby was writing furiously, his pen flitting across the page with a will of its own. Josh was sitting in the Mess, it had been closed for hours but when he had first gone in for a cup of coffee it had been heaving with people. CJ was sitting in the empty briefing room.

During the day they were able to keep busy and keep their minds off Sam as much as possible. But, as evening came and the chatter and business of the other staff disappeared, they were no longer able to avoid the thoughts and images that had they had been trying so hard to avoid.

"Oh this is ridiculous," CJ muttered and she jumped up and went off in search of Toby. When she got to his office, Josh had clearly had the same thought and was sitting on the sofa. The only sound was of Toby's pen scribbling across the paper.

"What's he writing?" CJ asked in an exaggerated whisper.

Josh shrugged and pulled a face.

She turned to Toby, "What are you writing?"

Toby finished the sentence he was on, drew his pen twice across the bottom of the page and then finally looked up from his desk. "I'm re-writing sections of the President's speech, for the Colombian Dinner."

"Which sections?" Josh asked.

"Well, the sections where he says that he can't comprehend what it must have been like for the Colombian government when two of their key advisers were kidnapped last June. I think his comprehension of that is much improved now." Toby stood up and walked over to the window between his and Sam's office, "Also the bit where he talks about the terror of not knowing, and the fear of never finding out, I thought we've probably got that one pretty well covered too."

"I was sitting in the briefing room and I thought you might be able to distract me, Toby." CJ turned the pad over that Toby had been writing on. "I came here seeking company," she added

"I came here seeking Bourbon," Josh said.

Toby drew his gaze away from Sam's empty desk and walked over to his. He pulled open the bottom drawer and took three glasses and a bottle from it.

CJ described to them the hazing of a new member of the press corps. Toby suggested they all go home. CJ stood up and Toby started to get his things together. But Josh remained seated.

"I can't stop thinking what Sam is doing, what's happening to him," Josh confessed quietly.

CJ and Toby both sat down again. They both knew they weren't going to get any sleep anyway.

Sam lay with his back to the door. He knew that Incul had just arrived to do his shift outside his room. Sam's chest felt tight, and he had to keep reminding himself to breathe deeply and slowly. His broken rib didn't cause as much pain when he lay on his side but his arm had gone dead so he reluctantly turned onto his back. Unfortunately the move caused another bout of coughing. He tried to muffle the noise in his pillow but when he had finished he heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back. Sam got to his feet and was standing by the end of the bed when Incul entered the room.

He walked over to Sam and stared at him for a while before slamming his fist hard into Sam's stomach. Sam fell to his knees. He didn't have time to even try to stand before another blow followed. Sam remained on his knees for as long as he could before he finally fell to the ground. He brought his hands up to protect his broken rib. Suddenly the attack ended and Incul walked quickly from the room. Sam rolled onto his back and squeezed his eyes shut, he had fallen and hadn't got up, but he hadn't cried out. Despite the severity of the blows, Sam had not made a single noise. That thought comforted him as he staggered over to the sink, threw up the unidentifiable dinner and then crawled back onto the bed.

The following morning, Josh sat in his office reading the papers. Donna sat opposite him scanning the front pages and handed the most relevant ones to Josh.

"The Post says, 'The first day of the trial of the two Colombians is going ahead despite speculation that the freeing of the prisoners was one of the demands of the FARC, the organization believed to be responsible for the abduction of Sam Seaborn, a senior member of Bartlet's staff'."

"What's the opinion column say?" Josh asked as he put down the paper he had been reading.

Donna spread the broadsheet over the desk and flicked through the pages. "Bartlet's stand of non-negotiation to be tested in trying times," Donna read. "It goes on to question who is making the real decisions…there's a bit about Rosslyn…it says that Bartlet has proved himself able to act dispassionately in situations in which he has been personally affected, it says that he has made the decision for the trial to go ahead with the almost certain knowledge of the ramifications of that decision for Sam, there's a bit about-"

"Okay, that's… actually I don't care what it says." He looked at his desk which was covered with newspapers.

"You want me to fold all of these up, don't you?" Donna asked resignedly.

"Yeah, I'm going to see Leo." Josh walked out of the room leaving Donna to begin her struggle with the papers.

Josh knew something was happening as soon as he neared Leo's office. His stomach flipped, when he saw three agents standing in the doorway and Ron standing behind Leo. A technician was testing a machine that sat by Leo's phone. Josh stayed outside the room, seeing all he wanted to in the space between the two agents.

"Let them speak first, they will have more demands and more threats. Don't let them get to you. They'll try to upset you but just focus on what they are saying they want. You need to reiterate that the President is not going to negotiate. That is the only message that they need to get from this but leave them open to thinking there may be room to discuss alternatives. Tell them you want proof that they have Sam and that he's okay and that you won't continue discussions until you have that." Ron waited for Leo to reply.

"Okay, well you might want to write that down for me."

Ron smiled and took the pad that Leo held out to him. Leo ran a hand over his face and when he looked up he saw Josh peering over the agents' shoulders. He mumbled something to Ron and Ron walked over to Josh closing the door to Leo's office behind him.

"Josh," Ron greeted. "Leo is about to receive a call from the people who have Sam. They contacted us this morning after seeing in the papers that the trial is going ahead. Leo's pretty nervous and he's already got three agents and a technician listening to his every word." Ron smiled but Josh didn't return it. "Leo said he'll call you in when he's finished." Ron expected Josh to put up a fight but he didn't, he looked almost glad that he wasn't allowed to stay. He walked away from Ron and went back to his office where he sat down on the floor next to Donna and helped her to put the newspapers back into some semblance of order.

Leo stood behind his desk and read through the list that Ron had written out for him. The technician, Graham, was underneath his desk and Leo heard a polite, 'excuse me' as he made way for him to come out.

"It is working, Ron," Graham answered as he emerged. "I'm just saying that we should have connected it up to the other line and then we could have hooked it up via the internet."

Ron nodded distractedly, Graham was the best in his field of security and call tracing devises but he was also a perfectionist. Ron wasn't too bothered with how the thing worked as long as it could trace a call and record what was being said.

Graham started to crawl under the desk again and Ron caught a quick glance at Leo's face. "Graham, does that connection look loose to you?" Graham went scurrying off to the wall on the other side of the room to check the lead and Leo nodded his appreciation to Ron and sat down and waited. It was nine am. The trial was due to begin at two. He was just glancing at Ron's notes again when the first shrill tone of the phone made both him and Ron jump. Leo waited for Graham's nod before picking up the receiver.

"Leo McGarry."

Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, Javier was sitting opposite him. He looked at Sam as he spoke.

"Maybe you misunderstood, Mr McGarry, we demanded the prisoners be freed before, not after, the trial."

Sam could imagine how angry Leo would be feeling, and how hard he must be trying to refrain from saying what he really felt to Javier. He wondered who was in the room with Leo. He thought about the call the President had made to the man aboard the ship that night of the state dinner, how they had all stood around listening to the conversation. He wondered if Josh and Toby were in the room listening to Javier and Leo speak now.

"There has been no misunderstanding, the President does not negotiate with people using terror as a bargaining tool and that is not going to change now."

"Even when the terror is the threat of losing one of his own?" Javier asked.

There was a pause before Leo answered, "Even then, yes."

"We are disappointed that you are taking this stand but not surprised. There is still five hours for him to change his mind."

Leo knew this was his chance to stall. "A lot can change in five hours."

"Perhaps you are open to discussing this further?" Javier looked at Mael and nodded to indicate things were going well.

"Perhaps something can be arranged," Leo agreed. "But until we know for sure that you have Sam Seaborn and he is alive and well, I don't think there is any point continuing discussions."

"You will hear from him soon, but it won't be today. If that trial goes ahead I'm afraid he will be in no state for telephone conversations." With that, Javier hung up.

Leo, replaced the receiver and then picked up Ron's notes, screwed them into ball and threw them into the bin.


	3. chapter 3

Chapter Three

After Leo had spoken to Ron and Bartlet, he had told Josh, Toby and CJ that the trial was going ahead. He told them that Ron had said that a big cartel had been cracked in Colombia that had links with groups in Washington and he hoped that this may lead to some news on Sam. Leo suggested that maybe someone would be willing to do a deal if they knew something about Sam's whereabouts. Josh had pointed out that was extremely unlikely and Leo had reluctantly agreed. Leo didn't tell them about Javier's veiled threats when he had requested to speak to Sam. After CJ and Josh had left, Toby hung back.

"What aren't you telling us?"

Leo sighed, he had known that one of them would not believe he had told them everything but he had expected it to be Josh.

"I need to know everything, Leo. Josh is happy with your account because he doesn't want to think about what you are leaving out, but I need to know."

Leo thought back to the last time Toby knew there was something that he wasn't being told. He didn't think he could go through that again and so he got up and closed the door. "Javier is the one I have spoken to. I told him we wanted proof that Sam is alive and he said that I would get it later. He told me that if the trial went ahead Sam would be in no condition to talk to me today." Leo was surprised when, instead of breaking into a fit of anger, Toby slumped onto the sofa.

"Let's imagine the trial is just about to start," Toby said quietly.

"Okay,"

"And that Ron hasn't managed to find out where Sam is."

"Believe me, Toby, this is a scenario I've been imagining for quite a while now."

"So in this scenario, does the trial go ahead?" Toby asked.

"There is no scenario in which the trial doesn't go ahead."

Toby knew that would be Leo's answer but a part of him had hoped that it wouldn't be. If Sam was going to come back to them it would be because they had managed to find him before any demands had been ignored, it wouldn't be because of any move Leo or the President were thinking of making. Toby walked through the communications office. CNN was showing footage of the Colombian prisoners and debating the link between their trial and the abduction of Sam. He shouted at Ginger to turn the television off

That morning, Mael had come into the bedroom to wake Sam. He needn't have bothered; Sam had been awake for hours. He had watched as a thin streak of light had slowly appeared and then sharpened until it was a bright beam cutting across the wall. He had lain listening to his captors talking. They were chatting noisily, even Javier sounded enthusiastic. Sam realised that they truly believed that the trial was going to be stopped.

A few hours later, he was sitting at the kitchen table next to Javier. They were waiting for the studio footage of reports about the trial to change to live shots from the courthouse. He knew with absolute certainty that the trial would go ahead but his captors' enthusiasm almost had Sam hoping that somehow Bartlet had arranged for it to be postponed to give him more time.

As he watched the studio picture switch to an outside shot he knew he had hoped in vain. A serious faced, white haired reporter announced that the van containing the two prisoners had just driven around the back of the courthouse amid heavy security. Mael muttered, "Bastards," as Incul pulled Sam to his feet. Sam knew that Javier would make good on his threat to Leo, but he was also pretty certain that they weren't going to kill him. The release of the prisoners was a prelude to the main event which, he suspected, would be the Colombian Dinner or the announcement of the Statement of Aims. In theory, Sam reasoned, they needed him alive at least until then.

He was dragged out of the room and was surprised when he passed the bedroom and was taken further down the corridor. He felt Incul's grip tighten at the sound of someone knocking on the door. Instinctively Sam moved towards the sound, a hand was placed tightly over his mouth before he could call out and a gun barrel placed to his cheek. Incul pulled him swiftly into the bathroom. Sam could feel Incul's heart beating where he was held tightly against his chest.

The knocking came again and this time was followed by a voice. "Hello, I'm Mrs Delaney, I live next door. I just thought I'd pop over and say hello."

Incul tightened his hold on Sam and pushed the gun harder against his cheekbone. The woman knocked again and then walked away down the path but still nobody moved. "Has she gone?" Incul called out to Javier but then answered his own question, "Shit, she's come round the back."

Her footsteps could be heard on the path that led to the back door. She didn't knock this time but Sam could see her trying to peer in through the frosted glass panels. The gun jolted as Incul jumped when Mael suddenly appeared in the bathroom and shouted, "Hold on ma'am, I'll be with you in a minute." He ducked his head under the tap and wet his hair, emptied the contents of a toiletry bag and covered his face with shaving foam and then grabbed a towel and held it over his head. "Ella no saldrá," he whispered to Incul as he passed him. Sam didn't think she was going to go away either. Incul pulled Sam further into the room and tightened his grip.

Mael opened the door and stood pretending to dry his hair. "Hey, I'm sorry about that, I was in the bathroom."

"Yes, I can see, sorry. I just wanted to say hello. I live next door. I know this place has been empty for a while but I've seen lights on and figured someone had moved in."

"Well, it's good to meet you ma'am. You probably haven't seen much of me because I work nights, so I'm in and out at all hours."

"Oh and here I am disturbing you, I'm sorry." She tried to peer past him as she spoke.

"Well, anyway, nice to meet you." Mael started to shut the door.

"Yes, you too. I'm sorry I disturbed you."

"No problem, good day ma'am." Mael shut the door and sagged against it as he wiped the foam from his face. Javier walked up to him and Mael shrugged. "We had no choice, she would have come back. This way we've shut her up for a few days."

Javier nodded and walked up to Incul. "Get it done. I want to send the pictures tonight."

Incul pulled Sam away from the wall and Mael opened a door that led down a flight of stairs and followed them down. Mael pulled Sam's arms behind his back. Mael held him up and Incul started an onslaught of blows. When Sam became too heavy for Mael he let him drop to his knees but still the punches continued. Sam tried not to make a sound. He lasted as long as he could before his groans joined the sounds of Incul's exertion and Mael's encouragement. The room was dark and Sam didn't notice the difference between that and the sudden darkness that engulfed him as the beating ended and he sank to the floor.

It had been four days since Sam had been abducted and it had been four days since CJ had slept for more than a few hours. She groaned when she heard a ringing noise and reached over and groped for the alarm. It took a few seconds for her brain to register that it wasn't the alarm that was ringing and then she remembered Sam and she leapt out of bed and grabbed the phone.

"It's me. Come in." Toby's words were enough to jolt CJ awake. For a few moments she thought Sam must have died but as she ran around her apartment she knew that Toby would have come in person to tell her that. She knew it was bad though to have called her in at five am.

CJ had never known the Bullpen to be so busy on a Saturday. She peered into Toby's office but seeing he was talking to Ron, headed straight to Leo's. Josh was still wearing his suit and she guessed that he hadn't been home. She wondered if he had been home since Sam had been taken.

Leo was talking to the President but when he saw CJ he stopped and walked back to his desk. "We've been sent a picture of Sam. The Washington Post has it too and is going to run it today."

CJ wanted to answer as Sam's friend. She wanted to know how he looked. She wanted something to quell the nagging fear that they would never see him again. She answered as the Press Secretary. "I'll get a briefing setup within the hour. Has Toby got something for me?"

"Yeah, he's just meeting with Ron."

"Sam's holding yesterday's newspaper," the President said and gestured with his coffee cup towards the envelope that Josh was holding. CJ went and sat beside him and took the brown envelope out of his hands. Judging by Josh's expression there was more to the picture than proof that Sam was alive. She started to open the envelope but then stopped.

"Can I take this with me? I need to see Toby."

Bartlet nodded, he appreciated the professionalism of his staff in emotional times. It never ceased to amaze him. He wished that he had been able to look at the photo in private too.

CJ went into her office and closed the door. She put her bag and coat down and then sat on the sofa. She closed her eyes as she fingered the edge of the envelope, took a deep breath and then pulled out the photo. She glanced at the picture and then looked quickly away. Staring out of the window she told herself that she would have to get used to looking at the image as it was one she would be seeing a lot of over the next few days. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and turned back to the photo. Sam was sitting against a blank wall. He was holding a copy of yesterday's Washington post. His hair hung over his forehead and his head was slightly bowed. He wasn't looking at the camera but she could see that one eye was swollen closed and bruises were clearly visible on his face. CJ forced herself to keep looking. She knew that the proof that Sam was alive should fill her with hope but instead it just made her fear for him even more.

She heard Toby's voice and quickly shoved the photo back into the envelope.

"I've written down what you should say and underlined what you shouldn't." Toby handed her his notes. "Ron says they haven't been able to trace the calls yet. They're using a phone that hasn't got wireless tracking…something, which makes it more difficult. They can trace the cell tower but it's harder to pinpoint the exact location without satellite technology as well."

"Have you seen it?" CJ asked.

Toby nodded and walked out of the office.

Donna switched on her computer and flicked through her messages before going into Josh's office.

"You slept here last night?"

"Well there wasn't much sleeping going on, but yeah, I didn't go home."

"What's happened?" Donna asked. Josh hadn't explained why he needed her in at six am on a Saturday morning.

"They sent a photo of Sam."

"Oh God, Josh, is he-"

Josh glanced up at Donna and realised what she was thinking. "No, he's not…Jesus did you think I was about to tell you he was dead?"

"I'm sorry, it's just you called me in and didn't say why. Toby and CJ are sitting in their offices staring into space, I just thought…I just feared the worse."

"He's holding yesterday's Post, so-"

"How does he look?" Donna interrupted.

Josh tried not to picture the image of Sam that he knew was going to haunt him. "You can't really see his face," he lied.

"So what happens now?"

"I really don't know. The Statement of Aims is going to be published on Monday and then the Colombian Dinner is on Wednesday. Both of which the FARC will probably demand to be cancelled. They've already had one demand refused and it's pretty clear how that turned out for Sam. If they…" Josh's voice trailed off and he stood up.

"What?"

"I was just going to say that if they wanted the Colombian prisoners…" Josh stared at the floor deep in thought. "They told Leo what they wanted, so they must have said what they…"

"Josh?"

Josh didn't answer he was already rushing past Donna and heading for Toby's office.

Toby was sitting on his sofa reading the Washington Post that had just arrived. He had turned the top of the page over so that he didn't have to look at the picture of Sam while he read.

"What don't I know?" Josh said by way of greeting as he burst into the room.

"Well, I think you've proved on a number of occasions, that there's quite a lot you don't know."

"Toby!" Josh's voice was low. Toby sighed and put the paper down.

"I don't know much more than you. I've told you what Ron said and Leo told you what happened when he spoke to them."

"What else do they want? What will they do if their next demand isn't met?"

"I don't know."

Josh snorted. "You've seen the picture. They sent us that to show what had happened because we didn't release the prisoners. What's next?"

The phrase was a common one. They said it when they wanted to move on, pick themselves up, but this time the words were chilling. "I don't know, Josh. They'll phone again, repeat their demands and make new threats." Toby leant forward and put his head in his hands. "I don't think they're just going to beat Sam up next time though."

"I'm going to see, Leo. We need to stop the Statement of Aims being announced and then cancel the dinner." Josh started towards the door but Toby didn't move. "Why are you sitting there? Why are we just sitting here doing nothing when we know what they want? We can release the Statement when Sam's back, the President can have his State Dinner when Sam's back. Am I the only one who realises it's that easy?" Josh shouted.

"Yes, you are. And when you've calmed down you'll go back to being rational and knowing that we can't do anything except hope and pray that the secret service find Sam before we have to refuse their next demand."

The fight seemed to leave Josh, and he slumped onto the sofa next to Toby. "I'm going to go home and grab a shower."

"Get Donna to drive you." At Josh's quizzical expression Toby continued, "You haven't slept, I doubt you've eaten much either and you've just had quite an impressive emotional outburst, just get Donna to drive." Josh left and Toby walked into Sam's office. He sat behind the desk and looked at the photos around the room, he needed to get the image of Sam, that he had seen that morning, out of his head and replace it with pictures of happier times.

Sam hadn't come to until the evening when Javier came to take the photos. He had slapped Sam's face and shouted at him to wake up. Sam had been left alone again, the bright flashes from the camera dancing in front of him until he had slipped, once more, into darkness. He had not woken again until the morning of the following day. Mael came down into the basement with a sandwich and a glass of water. He shook Sam until he responded with a groan and then left. Sam sat up slowly and eased himself into a sitting position against the wall. He couldn't face the thought of food but he sipped slowly at the water. He felt disgusted with himself for showing fear and pain to them. He hadn't begged though and he wouldn't. No matter what they did, Sam told himself, he wouldn't beg. He tried to work out what day it was. He knew the trial had been scheduled for Friday and so he had been taken to the basement on Friday night. He might have only been asleep for a couple of hours, but Sam was sure that it had been longer and that it must be Saturday now. Although which part of Saturday, he couldn't tell.

He tried to think about what would be happening at work. He wondered if they would still be planning to release the Statement of Aims. He pictured the President explaining that he wouldn't negotiate and he wondered if anyone was arguing with him. He pictured Josh running towards him and then freezing. Josh should have kept running. He should have tried to stop them. Sam forced the image and thoughts from his mind. Josh would be arguing with the President, making him change his mind. They wouldn't give up on Sam. He hadn't realised he was shaking until the glass slipped from his hand. It didn't break but rolled to the other side of the room. Sam didn't attempt to wipe the water from his shirt. He was too cold to even notice it.

Donna had taken Josh home, waited for him to shower and change and then brought him back. CJ and Toby were kept busy most of the day dealing with the fallout from the Post's article. Leo spent the day with Bartlet and Ron. Josh had nothing to occupy him. He didn't want to see Toby after their earlier discussion and CJ was too busy to stop to talk. Donna spent the time catching up on work and trying to persuade Josh to go home.

"There is nothing you can do. If you go home, I can go home," she reasoned.

"You can go home."

"I'm not leaving you, you'll sleep here again if I do." She walked closer to the desk. "Why don't you go and sort out Sam's office. Bonnie said the agents left it in a state."

"Ginger's already done it." Josh said as he reached for the paperclips and started to fix them together.

"I know! Why don't you go to Sam's apartment and see if that needs fixing. The agents have been there as well. Anyway, things might need switching off or…whatever."

"When you said you're not leaving me, did that include going to Sam's?" Josh asked as he searched his drawer for Sam's keys.

"I'll get my coat," Donna said.

After being in Sam's place for a few minutes, Donna began to think that it wasn't such a good idea after all. Josh picked up the pile of newspapers and mail while Donna looked around the living room. It was clear that the agents had been but they had left things in a reasonable state. Clearer still were the remainders of Sam's last morning at home. An empty coffee cup stood on the living room table next to an open copy of the TV Guide. Sam had circled the game that he and Josh had later made plans to watch. On the bed, a number of neckties were laid out. A shirt was lying next to them and two ties lay on top of that. Josh thought about how Sam had found out about the staff betting on which tie he wore. "He must have tried all of these on that morning and he still wore the same one."

Josh picked up one and fiddled with it. "I told him I'd make a killing if he wore this one." Donna reached in front of him and started to put them away. When she had finished she found Josh in the kitchen looking at a piece of paper stuck to the fridge. Under the printed heading 'Don't Forget!' it read,

Phone Mom

Tux for Wednesday

Imitrex!

Josh screwed it up and threw it in the bin. Donna emptied the fridge of food that had gone off while Josh emptied the coffee machine and the trash can. They worked in silence. When it was clear that there was nothing else they could do they sat on the sofa, side by side. Josh closed his eyes and let his head fall back. When he opened them again it was dark outside. He could hear sounds coming from the kitchen as he recognised Sam's apartment. For a few brief moments he thought it was Sam making the noise but then he remembered why he was there and he rubbed his hands over his face and walked wearily towards the kitchen to join Donna in her fourth, and his sixth cup of coffee of the day.

Leo wished he was anywhere but in his office waiting for Javier to ring. Again, Javier had phoned the Washington Post and told them that he would be phoning the White House within the hour with more demands. Graham, the technician, had already managed to irritate Toby by demanding he sit out of the way of any of the wires that ran from Leo's desk. Toby watched Graham, who was unconcerned with the conversation that was about to take place and was totally focused on making sure the equipment worked. Toby had a flash of guilt for not phoning Josh to tell him of the latest development but it soon faded as he recalled his last conversation with him. He was sure wherever Josh was, it would be better for him than sitting here waiting for the phone to ring. When it rang, everyone in the room jumped, apart from Graham. He just checked a reading and started jotting notes on a pad.

Sam crawled to the corner of the room and tried to escape the draft. He curled into a tight ball, ignoring the pain in his chest which now throbbed constantly. His hands had not been untied and he was grateful for the movement it allowed him, as he rubbed his them up and down his arms in a fruitless effort to create some warmth. The door at the top of the stairs opened and Sam was blinded by the light that entered the room. He opened his eyes when he heard the footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs. Sam knew he was shaking but he didn't care now if they realised or not. He didn't care anymore, and that should have worried him more than it did. He just wanted to be warm again. He knew he wasn't going to feel safe, so he would settle for warm and petrified.

He was taken back to the bedroom and thrown on the bed. He was surprised to see Javier enter the room. "What does the Statement of Aims say?" he asked as he gestured for the other two men to leave the room.

"It..err..it says," a coughing fit halted Sam. "It says…plans and how we are going to help them make them work." Sam's vocabulary seemed to escape him and he groped for words that he would normally use, but couldn't find.

"What's the first 'plan'?"

"The…giving…there's going to be," Sam stopped and sighed, frustrated at his inability to form a sentence. "There will be money for training…err…training Colombian forces, special training."

Javier just nodded thoughtfully. And then he crouched by the side of the bed. "Leo McGarry is a wise man. He is…" he waved in hand in the air, looking for the expression, "stringing me along. Do you think they will cancel the dinner?"

"No." Sam didn't even have to think about his reply. They weren't going to find him. He wasn't sure they were even looking. He wanted to ask for a blanket. He wanted to stop feeling cold.

"No," Javier echoed, and he stood and left the room.

Sam climbed off the bed and managed to pull out the rough blanket that covered the mattress. He got back onto the bed and pulled it around him. Initiatives; that was the word he had meant instead of plans. With that thought Sam welcomed the blackness that enveloped him once more.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Graham winced. He knew Mr Ziegler was upset but he wished he wouldn't stand so close to his wires and cables. He watched Toby pace backwards and forwards and decided against saying anything until the Communications Director had calmed down.

"We could say that the Statement of Aims was unfinished when Sam was abducted and so its publication has been delayed." Toby had been coming up with ways of stalling the kidnappers since Leo had replaced the handset, moments earlier. "Or we could just change the schedule and say that due to security issues, the Statement is being rescheduled."

"Or we could just announce that the world's most powerful nation is being held to ransom by a Colombian drug cartel, because it amounts to the same thing," Leo snapped back. Javier had told Leo that he was being given another chance. The Statement of Aims that Sam had written with the Colombian Embassy staffers was due to be presented at a luncheon on Monday.

Graham grimaced as Toby turned and again walked over the wires. "Well I'm glad I'm not you," Toby said to Leo.

"I'm glad I'm not Leo," the President announced from the adjoining doorway, "Although, I'm not too happy being me at the moment either." Bartlet walked into the room, sat down on the sofa, and wiped his hand over his eyes. He looked up at Leo who shook his head in response.

"He's not going to wait. He knows we're not going to cancel the Statement." As Leo spoke, Bartlet lay back against the sofa and closed his eyes. "He said that he will allow Sam to speak to us tomorrow."

"We thought we might get something from some dealers that were arrested but they didn't know anything. They knew something big was going to happen but not the details," Ron said.

"It was a long shot," Bartlet said as he sat up. "If you haven't found Sam by Monday..." he trailed off but Ron knew what he was asking.

"If there are no more demands and we don't find Sam by Monday then the chances of finding him at all are slim. The chances of finding him alive are non-existent."

Everyone knew the situation but hearing it spoken out loud by Ron made it sound like Sam's fate had already been sealed. Bartlet clasped his hands and Toby noticed his knuckles were white. Leo slumped into his chair, the adrenaline that had been pumping through him suddenly dissipating. Toby stood in the middle of the room and looked at Ron. The silence wasn't broken until Graham quietly said, "Mr Ziegler, you're standing on my wires."

Sam felt the warm hand on his forehead and hoped the warmth would seep into the rest of his body. He could hear his name being called but didn't open his eyes.

"He feels really cold," one of the voices stated worriedly and he heard his name being called more urgently.

"Of course he's cold he spent a night in that fucking basement," a hand shook Sam roughly and he finally opened his eyes, flinching away when he saw the hand belonged to Mael.

"We should have brought him back up here. He's not much use if he dies of hypothermia."

"Just get him lucid and hurry up," Javier ordered. He had been in a foul mood since his conversation with Leo the day before.

Sam was dragged off the bed and towards the sink. He heard the water running and knew what was coming next. This time he took a deep breath before his head was plunged into the cold water.

He had spent most of Saturday asleep. Two meals lay untouched on the floor by his bed. He had dreamt that he was diving from a boat. Toby, Josh and his father were with him, they were all wearing tuxedos. He had dived down to the ocean bed and when he had surfaced his friends were gone and the boat was in the distance. The sun started to disappear and the water had grown colder and colder until Sam had been unable to move his legs and had started to sink down. A clump of seaweed clung to him and Sam had woken to find the blanket tangled around his legs.

But now he was awake and being led, once again, to the kitchen.

It was exactly twenty-four hours since Toby had sat and listened to Leo talking to Javier and now he was sitting in Leo's office again waiting for the phone to ring, waiting to hear Sam's voice.

Josh was asleep on Toby's sofa. Donna knew something was going on but Leo had told her not to wake him. Toby, Graham, Ron and two agents were already sitting in his office and Leo didn't know if he could cope with Josh as well.

The President stood in the Oval Office, hands in pockets, staring out of the window. He was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt but the casual clothing did little to make him feel relaxed. Charlie stood behind him holding a cup of coffee that he had asked for but hadn't turned to accept.

Graham eyed Toby nervously. He had invested in some extension leads and moved his machine nearer to the desk but he still suspected Toby would end up pacing dangerously close to them again.

Leo sat staring at the phone. A sharp intake of breath was his only reaction when the phone finally rang. Javier quickly explained that they would hear Sam's voice next and there was a pause as the phone was passed to him. Leo glanced at Toby but he was leaning forward, his eyes fixed on the carpet below him. At the sound of Sam's voice Toby clenched his hands together and closed his eyes.

"Leo, I've got to read this to you." There were mumbled voices in the background and then Sam continued. "The FARC have given the President every opportunity to comply with their demands. The first demand, that the two Colombian prisoners who were extradited by Colombia to the USA be released before their trial, was ignored. Hopefully the final two demands will not be. Tomorrow, the presentation of the Statement of Aims should be cancelled. In its place the President should publicly announce that he will no longer be assisting the Colombian President in his futile campaign against the drug cartels and narco-terrorists." Sam stopped talking and broke into a coughing fit. Toby stood up and walked to the back of the sofa. He placed his hands on it and again bowed his head. When the coughing stopped Sam took a couple of ragged breaths and continued in the same strained, emotionless voice. "You have until midnight on Tuesday to inform us that the dinner has been cancelled."

Leo took a deep breath in the silence that followed Sam's statement and then spoke. "Okay Sam, we understand...we…" Ron stared at Leo, in all the telephone conversations he had listened to, he had never heard Leo's voice falter. "You hold on son, you hear me."

"Yes."

"It will be over soon." Leo tried to sound reassuring but even as he uttered the words he realised the sinister double meaning of them.

"Yes," Sam replied again.

"I mean it, Sam, we're not giving up so don't you dare either," Leo's words were greeted with silence.

There was the sound of muted voices and then in the distance Sam coughing before Javier's voice came on the line again. "He has a cough, it is damp in the basement." Toby noticed Ron's smile and exchange of looks with one of the other agents. "You have seen the photo. You have seen what we have done to your colleague. I warned you that would happen if you ignored our demands. If the Statement of Aims is released on Monday then the consequences will be even more severe. If we do not hear from you by the deadline, you will not hear from us again and our hostage will obviously have become superfluous." With that, the line went dead. Leo stood for a while with the receiver in his hand before replacing it.

"Well he's getting careless. His taunt about Sam's treatment means we know we're looking for a house with a basement." Ron announced.

"Oh well, that's wonderful, Ron! That really narrows it down," Leo said.

"It does help, Leo. We're pretty sure that Sam is near DC. I know most buildings have basements but if we're in a position where we're trying to narrow it down having that knowledge could really be a great help."

Graham took off his earphones and stood up. "Give me a while, and I think I'll be able to say where in DC." He was smiling broadly and Toby decided that he was starting to like Graham after all.

After the phone call Sam was taken back to the bedroom. The blanket lay on the floor at the end of the bed and Sam crawled towards it. He didn't have the energy to climb on the bed but pulled the blanket around his shoulders and leant against the wall instead. He brought his knees up as far as his injured rib would allow and rested his head on them. Leo had said that it would be over soon and Sam knew that it would be. He knew that he had to hold on. Leo had told him to hold on. Josh would be willing him to hold on, but he wasn't sure that he could. He wanted it to end and he wasn't sure he cared how it ended anymore. He reached up with one hand and held onto the bed post. It felt comforting to have something to hold on to.

He tried to concentrate on his breathing which was becoming more strained with each coughing fit. He tried again to remember the relaxation techniques Ginger had taught him. It had been during the last State of the Union and although he had never done it after that, he remembered that it had worked. Sam closed his eyes and pictured himself back in the West Wing.

"_You have to have your knees together," Ginger instructed._

"_Well, now I've lost my centre of balance, and that's not very relaxing." Sam pointed out._

"_I haven't finished," Ginger rolled her eyes at an amused Bonnie. "Do you want to relax or not."_

"_I do, I do. I want to relax." _

_Ginger pulled Sam's arms up until they were pointing out to the side. "You are standing like a tree. Your feet are the roots and your arms are branches and you're going to breathe in through your nose, count four, then out through your mouth." Sam closed his eyes and started to breathe how Ginger had told him to._

"_Hey!" Sam cried happily._

"_See, it works."_

"_It really does." He continued for a while and then his smile started to fade. "I hope I'm not in the rainforest, because that wouldn't be very relaxing."_

"_Sam!" Ginger warned._

"_No really, one minute you're standing there with a toucan sitting on you and the next-bam, you're being felled by a multi-national logging company."_

_Ginger ignored him, "Breathe in and hold, two, three, four and out and in-"_

"_What are you doing?" Nobody had seen Toby walk up behind Sam._

"_I'm standing like a tree."_

_Toby came and stood in front of Sam and placed his hands on his hips. "See this? I'm standing like a pissed off Communications Director."_

"_Well I don't think that's going to help you to relax, Toby."_

_Toby turned and walked into his office and ripped some pages noisily from his pad._

_Josh had been passing through the Communications Office when he spotted Sam. "What you doing?"_

"_I'm standing like a tree."_

"_Yeah? I have this thing where I stand against the wall with my back-"_

"_Am I the only sane man in this building?" Toby bellowed. "Are two of the most intelligent men in Washington really outside my office discussing relaxation techniques when the State of the Union is three weeks away!"_

"_Think he means us?" Josh asked. Sam nodded vigorously and quickly walked into Toby's office._

"It's that fucking woman again!" The sound of Mael's voice jolted Sam back to the present. It took him a few moments to work out that the knocking he could hear was the woman who had called the other day. Before Sam could make a sound, Mael appeared and once again silenced him by placing the barrel of his gun against his head.

Sam struggled to stifle the urge to cough but couldn't manage it. Mael covered Sam's mouth and Mrs Delaney continued to knock as Sam struggled to breathe. The torture continued until Incul poked his head around the door and announced that she had gone. Mael released Sam who rolled away from him and lay gagging until he vomited.

Leo told himself he would go home when the President went to the Residence. That had been an hour ago. Each time Leo had gone into the Oval, Bartlet had been reading or writing. Once he had peered at Leo over the top of glasses and asked him if he wanted anything. Leo knew that Bartlet wanted to talk. It was just a matter of waiting until he was ready.

Leo looked in at his friend again. This time he was sitting on the edge of the sofa, his hands clasped and resting between his legs. Leo walked over and sat down in front of him.

"Abbey's coming home tomorrow," Bartlet said without looking up.

"She's cutting short her trip?"

"Yeah." Bartlet stood and walked over to the window. "When President Miguel offered to release Juan Aguilar in return for those five DEA agents, I didn't even consider it."

"Don't…I know where you're heading with this." Leo walked over to his friend. He remembered only too well the Colombian President's offer to release a man who ran one of the largest drug cartels in the world in return for five US hostages. There was a shocked silence when Miguel had put the ball in Bartlet's court and told him that he would release Aguilar if that is what Bartlet chose to do. The President had thanked Miguel but told him that he didn't think it was a good idea. Leo had been thinking about it a lot recently and knew it was only a matter of time before Bartlet mentioned it.

"Do you remember Sam trying to persuade me to go for the exchange in that meeting?" Bartlet smiled in recollection of Sam's earnest appeals.

"I don't think I was there."

"Sam wanted to discuss it. He wanted me to at least discuss negotiating. Toby was determined that I shouldn't." Bartlet sighed and turned to face Leo, "Sam said something to Toby about understanding the principle but there being real lives at stake. I remember wishing Sam would just stop talking, because I really didn't want to hear that argument."

Leo smiled, "Yeah, Sam can usually be relied on to voice the argument nobody wants to hear."

This time Bartlet smiled at his friend in agreement and both men walked back towards the sofa.

"Sam told me that we could argue principles when the hostages were back home." Bartlet leant back, "Do you think Sam will want to argue about principles with me if we get him back?"

Leo didn't want this conversation. He had his own worries about how Sam would feel about his part in the negotiations. He was relieved when Charlie chose that moment to enter the room, Ron close behind him.

"We know for certain that Sam is in Washington," Ron announced, "but better than that, we know he is somewhere within earshot of the cathedral bells and it's thanks to Graham."

At Bartlet's puzzled expression Leo explained, "That guy I was telling you about that keeps crawling under my desk."

"We listened to the tape of Sam, and Graham was pretty sure he had heard something. He's been working on it since then and managed to separate the sound until it is clear that what you can hear are church bells. Now, there are only two places in Washington, that church bells are rung."

"The Post Office Tower-" Bartlet suggested.

"And the Cathedral, we checked the times and there was a group of ringers practicing at the cathedral at a time that matched with the tape. So we know Sam is in Washington, it's a clear day, there's no breeze to carry the sound so we know that he must be somewhere that would allow for the bells to be picked up on a recording on a telephone message."

"You also know he's in a room with a basement," Leo said, suddenly realising how helpful that information could prove to be.

"So what now?" Bartlet asked.

"Now we work out exactly what sort of area we're dealing with. We start talking to realtors to find out possible properties. When we've done that we'll link any reports about suspicious neighbours or activity from the last few days to the properties."

"You said 'we start' you meant 'we've started' right?"

"Yes Sir, we've started."

"Good." Bartlet looked at Leo, "Are the others still around?"

Leo knew, without checking that Toby, CJ and Josh would still be in the building. "I'll go get them."

It wasn't much, but it was the first glimmer of hope any of them had since Sam had been bundled into a van and taken from them.

The sunlight burst rudely into the room and Josh rolled away from it. The sound of a vacuum had been his alarm clock for the past few mornings. He pulled the blanket over his head and tried to ignore the droning noise as it came nearer. It increased in volume as the door was opened and Toby entered carrying two cups of coffee and a bag of bagels.

"Get off my sofa."

Josh stretched and slowly sat up. Waking Josh, feeding him and getting him off the sofa had become part of Toby's morning routine. Josh shifted along so that Toby could sit beside him as he lay out the bagels and peeled the lids off the cups.

"Who's reading the Statement of Aims?" Josh asked. The Statement that Sam had worked on at the Colombian Embassy was to be published today. What should have been a low-key affair had turned into a media circus. The press had linked anything related to Colombia to Sam. They remained unaware of what the kidnappers were demanding. The Washington Post had passed on any information they had received from the kidnappers to the White House. And, although they had published the photo of Sam, they had not released any details about the kidnappers or their demands although speculation remained rife.

Toby handed Josh a bagel. "Marcus Ottero, he worked with Sam on the Statement."

"Does he know the significance of what he's doing? I don't think it's fair to let someone do that if they're not aware of the-"

"He volunteered, and Leo has met with him and explained what the possible…consequences could be. Apparently he told Leo that he thought Sam would want the Statement to be published."

"How does he know?"

"Josh!" Toby warned but with a mouthful of bagel it wasn't very effective.

"He doesn't know that Sam would want that. I think Sam just wants to get the fuck out of whatever hell-hole he's in right now and couldn't care less what we had to cancel to do it."

"Josh!" Toby shouted so loudly that Josh jumped, spilling his coffee on to his pants. "We are going to sit here and eat some breakfast and drink some coffee. We are going to have this one moment. Because I can't even begin to imagine the nightmare that we are going to face today, and I can only think about getting through it if we start off by sitting here eating bagels and drinking coffee and not thinking about it."

Josh looked at Toby for a while before reaching out, picking another bagel and taking a bite from it. They ate breakfast in silence.

In the Colombian Embassy, Marcus Ottero sat reading the Statement that he would be delivering in less than three hours, the Statement that he and Sam had worked so hard on, the statement that the kidnappers did not want made. Like Toby and Leo, Marcus tried hard not to think about Sam too.


	5. chapter 5

Chapter Five

The announcement of the Statement of Aims was to be at a luncheon for Colombian and American VIPs. What would have been a low-key affair with evening news coverage had now become a TV event as news stations decided that the reading of the Statement written by Sam Seaborn was worthy of a live broadcast.

Charlie walked through the Bullpen on his way to the Oval Office. He couldn't work out what was causing the strange atmosphere until he noticed that nearly all of the doors, that were usually open, were shut. Toby, CJ and Josh were in their offices, televisions on, sound muted. The other staffers were aware of the atmosphere. They had an idea that the Statement was important but they were not sure if it was linked to Sam's kidnap. Any suspicions they may have had were fast being confirmed by the behaviour of the senior staff.

Half an hour before the Statement was due to be read Ron called Leo to tell him a couple of properties that they had checked out had been empty and clearly had been for sometime. Leo knew it was a long shot but he had somehow managed to convince himself that Ron would find Sam, and like some TV movie he would do it seconds before the Statement was due to be read out.

It was quarter to two. Leo went next door and sat down next to Bartlet. The two men didn't speak, but they were both glad the other was there.

Toby had closed the blinds of his office. He had turned the sound up on the television but stood staring out of the window.

"I think…yes, I need to stop you there Gemma, as the Statement is just about to be read out now," the reporter's voice made Toby turn around. He sat on the edge of his desk and watched as Marcus Ottero started to read the Statement of Aims.

Sam stood by the door of the bedroom. He could hear the sound of the television coming from the kitchen. He couldn't make out what was being said but he could tell by the shouted curses coming from Incul and Mael that the reading of the Statement had gone ahead. Sam walked over to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. When the first demand had not been met he had received a beating worse than any he'd had during one of Incul's night time visits. He leant against the sink and tried to prepare himself for another one.

The door swung open and Mael came over to Sam and led him out of the room. He was seated at the kitchen table. Sam had been brought here once before to talk to Javier but he was not in the room this time.

"Which hand do you write with?" Incul asked.

Sam couldn't make sense of the question but started to answer when Incul pointed to the television and shouted impatiently, "What hand did you use to write that fucking shit with?"

"My right hand. I'm right handed."

Incul swiped his arm across the table, sending plates, cigarette packets and a couple of coffee cups flying across the room. Mael grabbed Sam's right arm and slammed it onto the table. If Sam had been confused by Incul's question earlier, its significance was chillingly clear to him now.

He tried to pull his arm out of Mael's grasp, standing up and knocking the chair to the floor in the process. Mael reacted by pushing Sam against the table and shoving his gun against Sam's head. Incul now had hold of Sam's arm and he pulled it towards him pulling Sam closer against the table. Sam watched as Incul pulled his gun from his holster. He placed it on the table and then, still holding Sam's arm, he picked up a can of soup and placed it under Sam's wrist. He picked the gun up by its barrel and lifted it above his head.

"Oh God, please," Sam cried, not caring that he had broken his vow that he wouldn't beg. He managed to pull his arm out of Incul's grasp but Mael stood behind him and simply pushed him forward again. "No, no, por favor, por favor."

Incul didn't respond. He simply placed Sam's wrist over the can and held his forearm firmly in his grasp. Sam closed his eyes when Incul lifted the gun again, if he had looked behind him he would have seen that Mael was doing the same.

"You fucking bastards!" was all Sam could say before Incul brought the butt down and slammed it against Sam's hand. He cried out in pain twice before Mael covered his mouth. He felt the gun slamming against his hand and fingers four more times before he passed out.

When he woke, he was back on the bed. He lay still, staring at the ceiling, the shock of what had happened registering throughout his body. Javier stood in the doorway and watched Sam. He wanted no part of the violence; that is why Incul and Mael were here. His job was to talk, to negotiate, to persuade. He walked over to the bed and leant over Sam. "Your President is not going to negotiate, but you never thought he would, did you. They have until midnight tomorrow but it won't make any difference. They value their principles over the fate of one of their own. It's coming to an end now." Javier walked out of the room and Sam rolled onto his side. He curled into a ball and tried not to think about principles and negotiating and why they hadn't tried to get him back.

Leo replaced the receiver and walked straight into the Oval Office. Bartlet watched as he walked back and forth between the chairs. He was happy to wait for Leo to speak. He knew it wasn't good news. Ron appeared in the doorway. Javier's call had been unexpected and Ron hadn't arrived in time to listen to it. Eventually Leo stopped pacing and turned to face them.

"They broke his hand!"

"Oh God," Bartlet whispered.

"They broke his hand." Leo repeated and slumped onto the sofa. Bartlet remained perched on his desk.

Ron waited for a few seconds before speaking. He had intended to ask Leo what else Javier had said but decided that it would be wiser to go and listen to the tape.

Ron took the cassette from Graham and went back to his office. His admiration for Leo grew as he listened to Javier telling him how his refusal to cancel the statement had resulted in Sam having his hand broken. Ron shook his head as he listened to Javier explain the symbolism of the sickening violence. Leo had remained calm and resolute throughout the conversation. He had repeated that the Colombian Dinner would not be cancelled. Javier had ended the call by telling Leo that if that was still his position then he must tell the President that he would not see Sam again.

Ron leant back in his chair and muttered under hands that rubbed wearily at his face. He walked out of his office and over to the board that was covered with maps of Washington, photos of known Colombian drug dealers, and other documents. They surrounded a picture of Sam. Ron stared at it for a moment before delivering a verbal onslaught that everyone in the room had been expecting the moment they had seen his face when he appeared from his office. When he was finished, there was silence, followed by an increased flurry of activity. Ron walked back into his office and slammed the door behind him.

Toby knew that Leo would want to see them but he waited until Ginger knocked and told him before he left his office. Josh and CJ were waiting for Carol and Donna to do the same. By the time they arrived in Leo's office, Leo had calmed down sufficiently to deal with their reactions to what he was about to say.

Toby peered through the open door to the Oval and saw the empty desk.

Leo caught his curious gaze, "The President has gone up to the Residence for a little while." He walked over and shut the door. "A while ago I had another call from Javier. He told me that because we had gone ahead with the Statement they had broken Sam's hand." Leo could see the shock he had felt when he had heard Javier's words, reflected in the three faces before him. Leo looked down at the floor and paused before continuing. "The Colombian Dinner is on Wednesday. Their final demand is that we cancel it. We are not going to do that. We have to begin to-" Leo was halted by Josh who suddenly sprung from his chair and walked over to the door. He placed his hand on the handle but didn't make a move to open it. "We have to begin to prepare for the fact that Sam-" Leo found he couldn't finish that sentence. "They don't intend on releasing Sam. They never have. They gave us until midnight tomorrow to change our minds about the dinner. Ron is confident that might be enough time to locate Sam."

Toby was the first to speak. "Which hand?"

"His right," Leo answered quietly. He looked at Toby and CJ and felt for them as they struggled to cope with the news that Sam returning to them was looking less likely than either of them had feared.

Josh turned away from the door and faced Leo. "Do you need me?"

Leo was taken aback at Josh's words. He had expected him to react emotionally to the news. Leo told him that he didn't need him, and suggested that they all go home. Toby insisted on going with Josh and he sat and smoked cigars and made his Bourbon last while Josh drank himself into a state of blissful oblivion.

A ray of morning sunlight sneaked into Sam's room through the gap in the door. Sam was unaware of it though as he lay on his bed and gingerly cradled his hand against his chest. He walked over to the sink and rinsed cold water over his face. His hand hadn't hurt at first but now it was throbbing and was so swollen that he was unable to even bend his wrist. He placed his left hand on the wall and concentrated on taking deep breaths to unsuccessfully quell the nausea that he was struck with. As usual, attempting to breathe more calmly led to a fit of coughing that resulted in him throwing up. He sank to the floor, holding onto the sink with his left hand.

From this level, the ray of light that crept through the side of the door caught Sam's eye. Some mornings the crack in the window had caused sunlight to enter the room but he had never seen it here before and he crawled towards it to see where it was coming from. He peeped through the crack in the doorframe and looked out into the corridor. He could see the front door. A thick curtain had been pulled back allowing the sun to stream in. A couple of bags were placed by the door. Sam realised that they must be getting ready to leave. There was no sign of any of the house's other occupants. He looked at the sunshine through the frosted glass and could make out the faint sound of traffic. There was something calming about the innocuous front door and sounds of everyday life drifting through it.

Sam knew there was no way to escape. The windows were boarded, his door was locked and Mael and Incul sat outside his room all night. Even if he made it out of the room he wouldn't be able to get out of the actual house. He squinted at the front door through his narrow vista and thought about how close he was to freedom, how close he had been to Mrs Delaney when she had come calling on her new neighbours.

The sound of raised voices disrupted his thoughts. Javier and Incul were arguing. Sam thought that Javier sounded as if he was losing the cool façade that he had displayed until now. Incul was shouting at Javier and telling him that they should do it now. Javier shouted back that they should wait until the deadline. Sam's stomach turned as he listened to Javier shouting that it had always been the plan to dump the body away from the house. Sam hoisted himself to his feet. Killing him was the 'it' that Incul wanted to do now and Sam had no doubt that Incul would get his way.

Josh had been in the bathroom for twenty minutes when Toby knocked on the door.

"I've made some coffee." He grimaced at the sound of Josh retching in reply.

When Josh finally surfaced, he looked awful. "Maybe water," Toby decided and put a glass in front of Josh.

"Why did you let me get so drunk?"

"Well, when you took a clumsy swing at me and told me to back off or fuck off, I decided backing off and making sure you didn't end up in jail might be the wisest move."

Josh started to reply but ended up gulping and then swallowing hard. Toby waited until the current spell of nausea passed before continuing, "You could stay home today."

Josh became more alert, "No! That's not…I want to…I need to be there."

"Okay, well eat something then." Toby looked in the empty cupboards. "We'll eat at work." Josh nodded and went back to the bathroom.

At the same time that Toby was knocking on Josh's bathroom door, Leo was knocking on the President's bedroom door. A bleary eyed President opened it and finished tying the belt to his robe.

"What's up?"

"Ron thinks they might have found Sam. A woman called the police last night and complained of-" Leo checked the note, 'strange comings and goings in the house next door'. She said that the property had been empty for some time but people are there now. And get this- she says the man she spoke to had a Spanish accent. It's in the right area and a white van was sighted in the road on the day Sam was taken."

"And don't tell me, it's a house with a basement," Bartlet smiled. Leo nodded and returned the smile.

"Do you think this is it?" Bartlet asked.

"Ron thinks it could be."

"Okay, I'll be straight down."

Leo walked back to his office. For the first time in days, hope was an emotion that he allowed himself to feel.

Mrs Delaney leaned over and placed another cookie on her son's plate. "I would rather you didn't keep laughing while I'm telling you this, John."

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry Mom but you're making it sound like you've got international terrorists living next door."

"There's something going on!" Mrs Delaney protested. "He said he works nights, but I've never seen him leave that house." She folded her arms and leant back in her chair.

"Well if he works nights you wouldn't! Not unless you've sat up waiting for him to come home," John's smile faded, "Please tell me you haven't sat up waiting for him to come home."

"I have not, but I haven't seen him in the day and people who work nights don't sleep all day. And anyway, he was very rude to me."

"He wasn't rude he just didn't have time to chat."

Mrs Delaney replaced the lid on the cookie jar and sighed. "Well, I don't think I like my new neighbours very much. And you'll be sorry when they're arrested for…"

"Being rude?" John asked and burst into laughter again.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to Michelle?" his mother asked.

"Yes Mom," he leaned over and kissed her. "Let me just look at that boiler before I go."

Javier and Incul were still arguing. Sam hadn't heard Mael's voice at all. His field of vision suddenly darkened as a shape passed between the crack he was peering though and the front door. Sam could see that it was Mael. He had a bag in his hand and was fiddling with a set of keys. Sam could see him clearly as he reached up and unlocked the bolt and then bent down and pulled back the bolt at the bottom of the door. He got as far as placing the keys in the lock when a loud crash came from down the corridor. Javier shouted something which was followed by another crash. Mael dropped the bag and disappeared. Sam stood and stared at the keys that remained in the door.

It was quiet enough in the Bullpen for Toby to hear the clock ticking in his office. He seldom heard it above the chaos of the day but now he could concentrate on nothing else. He could see Ginger outside. She had walked over to the door twice but hadn't come in. He was glad. He didn't want to have to be strong for anyone. He was finding it hard enough to muster enough strength for him. He watched CJ's briefing on the television and marvelled at her strength, at how she managed to talk dispassionately about the 'continuing efforts' of the secret service and law enforcement officers. He listened to her deny that the administration was aware of any final demands of the kidnappers' and the consequences of not complying with them.

He saw a flash of movement in the Bullpen followed by the appearance of Donna. "Josh won't let me in his office."

"Just leave him alone, Donna. He probably just needs some time on-"

"No, there's something wrong." Donna's face and tone made Toby jump up from his chair and follow her back to Josh's office. When he got there he knocked on the door and waited. When there was no reply he banged on the door.

"Josh, open the door or in a few seconds there will agents opening it for me!"

A short silence was followed by the sound of a key being turned. Josh stepped back to let Toby enter. Toby scanned the office and took in the files and books that were scattered across the floor. Josh was pale and he stood staring at Toby one hand on his hip, the other rubbing furiously at his forehead.

"We have to go in there now and tell him to cancel the dinner. CJ should make an announcement and then appeal to them or…something….I don't know, tell them that we will listen to more demands if they release Sam."

"The White House Press Secretary should make an announcement on National television that President Bartlet is inviting Colombian terrorists to let him know their demands?"

"That's not what I-"

"No, this is good Josh, we could make it a weekly event. He could invite a different terrorist organization each week. Maybe we should put out a poll and see which groups people would like to see have their turn."

"I can't do this. I can't stand by and do nothing."

Toby cleared some papers off Josh's chair. "You need to sit down and listen to me." He walked over to Josh and started to guide him to the chair.

Josh spun away from him, his pale face now bright red. "We have to do something!"

Toby remembered Josh screaming at him to do something as they watched Sam being taken. He had the same response as he'd had then- he didn't know what to do.

Josh stood waiting for him to reply. When it became clear that Josh wasn't going to use the proffered chair, Toby took it for himself. When it became clear that Toby wasn't going to answer him, Josh sat down on the floor and leant against the wall.

They sat in silence. Later, Donna came in with a tray of sandwiches and drinks and left without saying a word. Toby watched the steam rising from the cups and spiralling into the air. He removed a sandwich and a cup from the tray and then put it on the floor and pushed it over to Josh. CJ knocked and entered with her own tray. Donna had made sure everyone had something to eat so the three of them sat in silence and tried to.

Leo, once again, was waiting for the phone to ring. This time, Ron wasn't standing next to him. Ron was standing at the end of a road that had been cordoned off, giving final instructions to a group of agents. He watched as his men took their positions around the house, joining the ones who were already there. Three marksmen crouched below the window of the house and waited for the signal. The group who were going to enter first stood behind a van. Ron could see the canisters of teargas in their hands. Ron walked over to another van that was parked nearer to the house but still out of sight. He knew everything was ready but he wanted a final check from the various teams before he gave the final word.

Sam listened to the raised voices and the sounds coming from down the corridor. He waited until the noises stopped and he could hear muted conversation again. He walked over to the sink and splashed cold water over his face, taking a few mouthfuls from the tap as well. His injuries had joined forces and become one constant pain that he couldn't pinpoint anymore. He could barely see out of one eye and his breathing had become painful, the ever-present cough had turned into a constant wheeze. He knew he had to hold on. He also knew that time was running out, had run out. The dinner was tonight and there was no doubt in Sam's mind that it wouldn't be cancelled now. If they were going to do something they would have done it long before this. Incul and Javier's words and the packed bags by the door made it clear that they had little hope of a last minute change of mind either. He would die today, and if his friends weren't going to help him he would have to do it himself. He walked back to the door, banged on it and called Mael's name.

Bartlet had joined Leo and was sitting opposite his desk. He stood when the phone rang and walked over to him. Leo looked at his friend as he listened to Ron speak.

"He wasn't there. It was the wrong house. There was no sign of anyone being there for sometime apart from one room that was scattered with needles and…I'm sorry Leo, he wasn't there."

Bartlet knew by the look on Leo's face that it wasn't good news. "It was the wrong house, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." Leo walked over to Bartlet and sat next to him. "I don't think they're going to find him now."

"No, I don't think they are."

Just before Mael opened the door, Sam peeped again through the crack and saw that the keys were still in the front door.

"What?" Mael asked.

"I need the bathroom," Sam explained. Mael sighed and followed Sam out of the room. Sam was pleased to see that Mael was clearly rattled about Javier and Incul's row; he needed Mael to be distracted. Sam went into the bathroom and leant against the sink. He took a few deep breaths and then flushed the toilet. He let cool water run over his broken hand as he studied his face in the mirror. One eye was nearly swollen closed and he was slightly startled by just how bad the rest of his face looked. Being beaten and feeling the pain was one thing, looking at the effects was quite another. He turned the tap off and rummaged quickly through the contents on the sink. He lifted a can but put it down when he saw it was shaving cream. Just as Mael shouted for him to hurry up, Sam saw what he was looking for and quickly picked the can of deodorant up and held it by his side.

Mael walked slightly behind him. In his absence, Incul and Javier had started to row again. Their voices echoed through the unfurnished corridor. Sam walked slowly, partly because he couldn't walk any faster and partly because he was trying to psych himself up. Sam took one last look at the door to make sure the key was still there, then, just as he neared the bedroom he turned round and sprayed the deodorant in Mael's face. Sam moved quickly towards the door, he could only use one hand and that was shaking so badly that he found it hard to get hold of the key at first. Mael was gasping for air. The spray had gone into his eyes and the pain was excruciating, he had also breathed it in and couldn't get his breath to call for help.

The key turned and Sam pulled frantically at the door. When it opened he was blinded by the sunlight but carried on down the path using the hedge along the side to guide him. Mael had got to his feet and tried to make it down the corridor but only managed to stumble into the bedroom. Sam reached the end of the hedge and suddenly the ground dipped beneath him. His eyes became accustomed to the light and he realised he was standing in the road. He glanced behind him but nobody had followed him from the house. The sound of a car gave Sam the strength to walk a few more steps and start waving his arms. The car screeched to a halt and Sam as good as collapsed against the passenger side. "Please…help me…I've been…"

The driver looked at Sam's frightened and battered face. He quickly leant over to the passenger door, clicked the lock down and sped off. Sam called helplessly after it. On the other side of the street a child came out of a house followed by her mother. The woman took one look at Sam, grabbed the girl's wrist and pulled her back into the house.

A sudden rage propelled Sam forwards to the middle of the road. Why would no one help him? Why couldn't they see that he needed them to help him? He staggered as far from the house as he could. He didn't want to die. Why could no one see that? He couldn't understand how someone could drive away from someone who so obviously needed help. He couldn't understand why his friends hadn't helped him. He didn't want to die because of a stupid dinner. He didn't want to die because his friends had principles. He didn't want to die.

Sam looked behind him. Mael had appeared from the bedroom and was making slow progress down the corridor to where Javier and Incul were. The street was empty. The surrounding houses started to spin. Somehow Sam made it to the other side of the road. He couldn't run, he could hardly walk. He tried to look at the house but his vision was darkening. He had tried, at least he had tried. He slumped against the wall comforted by the knowledge that at least he had tried.


	6. chapter6

Chapter Six

Incul and Javier came running into the corridor. Sam saw them and pushed himself away from the wall. At the same time John Delaney pulled out of the drive onto the road still smiling at his mother's suspicions about her new neighbours. His smile faded as he saw Sam. John thought the man looked ill, he also noticed the bruises and way he was holding his wrist to his chest. John pulled up beside him with the intention of finding out if he needed help. Like the man before him he leant over to the passenger side but instead of locking the door he opened the window.

Sam's eyes widened in fear as he saw Incul headed across the road towards them. "Please!" John followed his gaze and on seeing the angry man coming their way, he made his decision. He pushed the door open and pulled Sam inside. He didn't wait to shut the door but held onto Sam's belt to keep him in the car. When they were out of sight of the house he shut the door and helped Sam to sit up.

"It's okay, I'm going to get you to a hospital." He looked nervously behind him but no car had turned out of the road after him. He started to drive again and picked up his cell. "Mom…yeah, you need to…Mom, listen! You need to lock yourself in the house and call the police…I don't know…I don't know, Mom, just do what I say." He ended the call and shook Sam. "Hey, hey, stay awake. What's your name?" John was already dialling another number on his cell as he talked to Sam.

"Sam Samborn...err…Seaborn."

"Okay Sam, well, I don't know what's happened to you but you're safe-" John turned his attention back to the cell phone as he heard the operator's voice. "Yes, police please." He started to tell them what had happened and where he was headed. John didn't know Washington well but he knew he had to get away from his mother's neighbourhood. He looked for street signs as the operator tried to work out where he was. Once she had worked out the nearest control centre she put him through. John explained to them that he didn't know where the hospital was. He told them about Sam and when he said the name Sam Seaborn the woman stopped him.

"Repeat his name again please, sir."

"Sam, Sam Seaborn." John looked at the man sitting next to him. "Holy shit," he muttered as the week's news coverage came into his head and he realised who he had in his car.

"Sam Seaborn," Sam mumbled.

"Yeah, we know who you are, Sam. It's okay, you got away." John pulled over and muttered, "It would be more okay if I knew how to get to the damn hospital." He spoke into his cell, "Listen, I'm going to switch the phone to speaker." Before he did that, he leant over and helped Sam to sit up again. Sam's eyes were closed and John thought his breathing sounded strained.

Sam opened his eyes. "Thank you," he mumbled. When he closed them again John shook him.

"Stay awake, Sam, I need you to read the road signs for me." John clipped the earpiece in place and started the car. "Okay, I'm on route 355." He listened to the calm voice of the police officer and focused on that. "Yeah Maryland, I saw it…okay…Wisconsin Avenue…yeah…no, not yet." John wiped his hand on his pants and rolled down the window. "Left? Did you say left? Okay, yeah…21st Street, is that right?" The sound of sirens in the distance was the most beautiful sound John had ever heard. He carried on driving as the sirens came closer. A policeman on a motorbike pulled up to the car and gestured for him to slow down. A police car passed him, another drew up behind him and then another motorbike pulled up to the other side of the car.

"Thank God," John muttered as the car in front set off and he accelerated to keep up with it. "Wow, Sam, this is pretty surreal, I suppose you're used to this sort of stuff. Do you think the President will give me a medal or something?" He shook Sam until his eyes opened. This time they stayed open as Sam focused on the man beside him. "Maybe even a tour of the White House, eh?" John was saying the first thing that came into his head. His last comment had got a small nod from Sam. "Although I think I'd prefer a medal or at least a commendation."

"Thank you," Sam said again.

"Hold on, we're nearly there." John stopped talking and grabbed Sam's hand instead.

The motorcade swept into the emergency bay and before John could do anything doctors and nurses were removing Sam from the car. He stayed in his seat staring at the flashing blue lights. They splashed across the hood of his car in a rhythm that matched his heartbeat. He didn't realise he was shaking until he tried to remove his phone from the holder on the dashboard. An officer who was waiting to talk to him reached past him and unclipped the phone. "When you're ready sir, we'll go inside."

John just nodded, he wasn't ready yet. In fact he was pretty sure that if he tried to stand up now he would fall flat on his face.

CJ and Josh had moved to Toby's office. Toby was sorting through his desk. The contents of every drawer lay scattered across the top of it and Ginger was quietly seated by his side making a collection of pens.

CJ was reading notes that Carol had given her for the briefing. Josh was surrounded by files, he picked them up randomly, reading and making notes. He threaded his pen through the spiral of one of the jotters and then cursed when he couldn't get it out again. CJ wanted to lean over and help him but something in his expression warned her off.

She returned to reading and ignored the sound of Josh cursing under his breath.

"This is Donna's pen," Ginger said as she removed it from the pile. "And, this is mine, and this is…" Her voice trailed off.

Toby took the pen she was holding and read the initials that were engraved on it. "Go put it back on his desk." Ginger headed out of the office. She was met in the doorway by the President.

CJ and Toby stood but Josh who had his back to the door chose that moment to fling the jotter across the room while shouting, "Fucking spiral bound piece of crap!"

Bartlet raised his eyebrows. "Is it all spiral bound stationery you have a problem with or just that particular one?"

Josh sighed loudly and run a hand through his hair. "Sorry, Sir. Just that one."

Bartlet walked over to the pad and picked it up. He removed the pen effortlessly and handed it back to Josh. "Leo's pacing and shouting at Margaret so I thought I'd come and sit in here for a while before he could start on me." He sat down on the sofa. "Did you go to Synagogue this morning Toby?"

"Yes."

Bartlet nodded and joined Josh in his study of the floor. The only sound in the room was of Toby sorting through objects on his desk and occasionally the runners of his drawers as he put items back into them.

Leo was smiling, that was the first thing Ginger noticed as he strode through the Bullpen and towards Toby's office. "They found Sam!" he announced from the Bullpen.

Toby and Bartlet leapt to their feet, CJ used the bookcase to help her upright, she stared at Leo, encouraged by his smile but fearful of what came next.

"Actually, by the sounds of it, Sam found them. I don't know, I don't know the details yet but Sam is at GW, he just got there."

"CJ, I need you here," Leo said and CJ nodded. Toby was already grabbing his coat. "I want you to call me and CJ as soon as you know anything. I want you back here in an hour. Talk to Ron too, he's already on his way there."

CJ hurried off to find Carol but not before squeezing Toby's arm and whispering, "Phone me first." Leo headed back to the Oval with the President.

Toby looked down at Josh. He hadn't moved since Leo had made his announcement. Toby was going to tell him to hurry up until he noticed Josh's clasped hands and white knuckles. "I'm just going to make sure someone phoned Sam's parents, I'll see you at the car." He squeezed Josh's shoulder and then left the office, shutting the door behind him.

When they arrived in the ER Toby and Josh soon found Ron and a group of agents. Ron broke away from the group and walked towards them. He pointed towards a private waiting room and they followed him inside. "He's still in the ER, they haven't told me anything yet."

"How did you find him?" Josh asked.

A flicker of something flashed across Ron's face. "We didn't. I don't know what happened but a man called John Delaney saw Sam on the street and brought him here." Ron went on to explain how the man hadn't known where the hospital was and was escorted here by the police.

"And the men who had Sam?" Toby asked.

"They weren't in the house by the time the police got there. But I doubt they'll get far."

Josh stared past Ron, out into the corridor. He stood and rushed to the door. Toby joined him in time to see Sam being wheeled past on a gurney. A doctor walked past, peeled off his gloves and threw them in the bin. He wiped a hand over his face and walked towards Josh and Toby. They stepped back into the waiting room and bumped into Ron who was charging out. "I think we've got one of them," he said as ran towards the exit followed by the other agents.

The doctor waited for Toby and Josh to sit before talking. "I'm Doctor Chenner."

"Toby Ziegler, this is Josh Lyman," Toby said quickly, impatient for news of Sam.

"Sam has gone up to the OR. We had to stabilize him first as he had gone into shock. He needs surgery to his right hand which is broken as well as his fingers. He also has internal bleeding. He has two broken ribs and several lacerations to his face. His front and back are covered with bruises which I would think have been sustained from several beatings. He is dehydrated and has developed pneumonia."

"His hand…is it…will the injuries. Are the injuries going to cause permanent damage?" Toby asked.

"It's difficult to say. It depends on the type of fracture, muscle damage, there are lots of factors. It's possible that there may be some deformity or possibly arthritis. We will know more after the surgery."

"Was he conscious?" Josh asked.

"No, from what I understand he was in the car, but he wasn't by the time I saw him. The surgeon will come and speak to you later." Doctor Chenner stood and Toby shook his hand and thanked him.

He looked at Josh who was sitting in the same position he had been on Toby's sofa earlier. "I'm going to make some calls."

"Did he say his hand would be deformed?" Josh asked.

"He said it might be." He walked over and sat next to Josh. "I'm going to make some calls," he repeated.

"Yeah, okay."

Toby stood outside the hospital and let the cool air blow away the stuffy, oppressive atmosphere of the waiting room. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the names. He phoned CJ first.

"For crying out loud will you pack that in!" Toby hissed.

Josh looked up, startled, from the other side of the bed. "What?"

"Breathing!" Toby whispered.

"You want me to stop breathing?"

"I want you to stop doing that weird sighing-breathing." There was a pause and then Josh took a deep breath in and blew it out in a long sigh. Realising that was exactly what Toby was talking about he mumbled an apology and went back to staring at his hands.

Josh was more uncomfortable than Toby because since he had entered the room he had only glanced at Sam. Toby had sat staring at him, taking in the bruises, cuts and cast on his arm and the tubes and machines. Toby had reconciled himself to the Sam that lay unmoving before him. Josh couldn't even bring himself to look at him.

After Toby had made his calls, Josh had gone back to the White House. Toby had stayed and waited for Sam to return from his surgery. Now they were both waiting for him to wake up.

A nurse entered the room and Josh watched her work, recognising many of her tasks from his own stay in hospital. After she had finished Toby announced he was getting them something to drink and left the room leaving Josh alone with Sam.

He was sitting on Sam's left side and so he didn't have to look at the cast. He looked at Sam's good hand instead, letting his gaze travel past the drip attached to his hand and up to his shoulder. He followed the tube that ran to the cannula and finally looked at Sam's face. They were the most colourful things in the room, Sam's bruises. They stood out brilliantly against the white walls and pale blue sheets. Josh stood and gently placed his hand on Sam's head. With his other hand he uncurled Sam's fingers and wrapped his own around them.

When Toby returned, Doctor Chenner was with him. He flicked through the chart on the end of the bed and then walked over to Sam. He called Sam's name a few times but he didn't stir. He placed his hand on Sam's forehead and called again.

The first thing Sam felt was warm, then he felt the hand on his forehead. He could hear his name being called but he didn't want to open his eyes. He felt warm and safe and the hand touching him was warm also. He remembered the last time he had felt this hand, he had felt safe then. He had heard his name called then too but when he had opened his eyes it had been Mael's hand on his head. Sam wasn't going to let them fool him again. The hand, the warmth, the soft voice- they were all tricks.

He tried to move away but couldn't, his right arm felt heavy. Sam knew he had to get away because they were going to kill him today. No one was going to help him, he was on his own. "Fuck," Sam mumbled and Doctor Chenner just continued to tell him to open his eyes. Sam tried to swipe at the hand but could only manage to raise his own the height of the bedrail. Josh jumped as Sam's arm thumped against the metal. "No!" Toby was amazed at the aggression in his tone. "No!" Sam tried to raise his arm again but couldn't even lift it from the bed.

"Tell him you're here," Doctor Chenner told Toby. Toby walked closer to Sam and placed his hand on the pillow beside his head.

"Open your eyes, Sam. You're safe. It's Toby, Josh is here too. It's okay." Slowly, Sam's eyes opened.

"That's it, Sam, well done," Doctor Chenner said, "Sam can you tell- open your eyes Sam, can you tell me your full name?"

"Samuel."

The doctor smiled, ask a stupid question, he thought. "What's your last name?"

"Seaborn."

"Do you know where you are?"

Sam looked at Toby again. He'd thought Toby had said Josh was here but he couldn't see him. He looked at the lights above him and listened to the sounds of the machines beside him. "Hospital?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Telling."

Doctor Chenner smiled again. "Okay." He asked him if he knew why he was in the hospital but Sam started to get agitated. He mumbled something about John driving. The doctor decided to leave the questions for a while. He briefly explained Sam's injuries to him but used simplistic terms.

All Sam wanted to do was to go back to sleep. He tried to concentrate on what the man was saying but he couldn't seem to register the words. Toby was there, he would be able to listen to the man. "Tell Toby," Sam said and he closed his eyes and let their voices fade away.

He didn't wake again until the next morning. The room was empty. Sam lifted his hand and felt the weight of the cast.

"_What hand did you use to write that fucking shit with?"_

So vivid was the memory of Incul's words that Sam instinctively moved his arm. When the nurse entered Sam was cradling his hand to his chest, his breathing was rapid and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

"Are you having difficulty breathing, Sam?" He opened his eyes and stared at her and shook his head. He opened his mouth to reply but was struck by a coughing fit. The nurse noticed how Sam tried to suppress it. She helped him to sit up slightly and told him not to fight it. "I know it hurts but you won't do yourself any favours if you try to hold it in." Sam just nodded, he wasn't afraid of the pain. It was the noise that worried him. The sound of him coughing had often been enough to rile Incul and cause him to 'visit' Sam, especially in the middle of the night. Sam knew he didn't have to worry about that anymore, but it was hard to let go of the strategies he had used to protect himself. When he had finished, he lay back and closed his eyes. He wondered if Toby or Josh would visit him soon. Toby had told him that Josh was here yesterday but he hadn't seen him. Josh had tried to help him, Josh had been running towards him but then he had stopped. With those muddled thoughts, Sam fell back to sleep.

Graham finished packing up the last of his equipment and placed it neatly into his bag. Leo watched him click the latches down and then walked over to him. "You did a good job. Ron says you're the best in your field."

"Thank you, Mr McGarry. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to find him for you."

In all the time Leo had watched Graham scurrying around his office on his hands and knees, or appearing from under his desk, he had never seen a flicker of an emotional response to the job he was doing. Now that his wires and machines were neatly packed away, Leo realised that Graham's pride in his ability had been knocked by not being able to help the President.

"Wait here for a moment will ya?" Leo went into the Oval Office and appeared a few moments later with the President. Bartlet walked over to Graham, his hand outstretched.

"Graham, are you rushing off?" he asked and Leo smiled at Graham's surprised face.

"Well no, I can stay and…"

"Chat, Graham, stay and chat." Bartlet placed his hand on Graham's arm and led him towards the Oval, "Now, you can set me straight on something, the Federal Government has ordered that all cell phones be equipped with wireless tracking by the year 2005. Isn't that going to put you out of a job?"

"Well, that's not strictly true but what you have to consider is that even though all the phones will have the technology it will be down to the cell phone regulators to make sure that…"

Graham's voice trailed off as the door to the Oval Office closed behind them. Leo shook his head and smiled.


	7. chapter 7

Chapter Seven

When Sam was awake he had flashes of memories, constant pain and laboured breathing. He preferred it when he was asleep. He didn't hide his annoyance when the nurse asked him if he felt up to answering a few questions from Ron Butterfield.

Sam watched as Ron entered the room. Stella, a female agent, sat down next to him by the side of the bed. On the way over Ron had been thinking about how Sam might react to him. Professionally, Ron knew he had done all he could to rescue Sam. On a personal level he felt more vulnerable. He had seen Sam euphoric after victories, morose at a funeral, bored stiff at State functions, drunk at White House parties and in shock after being shot at. He had seen Sam in many emotional states but he dreaded the state he might find him in now.

Sam's initial response was to say nothing. Ron greeted him, told him how glad he was to see him and explained how close he had been to finding him. The house that Ron had entered the morning of Sam's escape turned out to be only a few blocks from where Sam actually was. Sam listened impassively and gave no response when Ron finished talking. He asked Sam if he was okay to answer a few questions and finally Sam responded with a slight nod of his head.

"We've got one of them. A man called Mael Gacha was arrested trying to steal a car just outside DC." Sam showed no reaction to this news. He could remember Incul the most clearly and had hoped it was him they had caught.

"You won't be surprised to hear that he's giving us nothing. Can you tell us how many other men were in the house?"

Sam turned away from Ron and stared at the ceiling. Incul he remembered him and Mael, now that Ron had said his name. Sam pictured Javier leaning over his bed. "Three, there were three of them."

"Is it possible there were more?" Stella asked and Sam noticed the tape machine she was holding. Sam shook his head. Behind Stella, standing in the corridor, he could see Toby. "Can you describe them please?"

Can you fuck off? Sam thought and then froze, thinking he had said it out loud.

He tried to raise himself up the bed. He wanted to catch Toby's eye. He hoped Toby would come in and tell Ron to go. He gave up and lay back, embarrassed at how weak he must have appeared. "Do you need a nurse, Sam?" Stella asked and Sam noticed she and Ron were looking at him with concern.

"Javier had a beard," Sam started to describe Javier and how he had seemed in charge. When Ron asked him about Incul Sam closed his eyes. "I didn't see him much."

Ron asked him how he had got out of the house. Sam wanted to tell him. Sam could see the crack of light again and the bags by the door. "They were going," Sam started and Ron held up his hand when Stella started to ask another question. "They were fighting. I knew…if they went they would kill me…I knew it was coming to an end. Javier said…and they were fighting, I could hear the traffic." Stella looked at Ron, she thought they should stop and she brought her finger over the stop button but she didn't press it.

"Go on, Sam," Ron encouraged, ignoring Sam's worsening breathing. He hadn't been able to find Sam but he was going to find the men who took him.

"Erm…I could see the light in the…I…they left the keys in the door…I got them to, err, Mael I think, took me to the bathroom…they were fighting." Toby had turned around now and was looking into the room but Sam couldn't see him. He was staring at the ceiling again, his left hand clutching the rail by the bed. "There was a can…spray…I sprayed, err, Mael couldn't see…I got out, I got out and he wouldn't stop."

"Who wouldn't stop? Did Mael come out after you?" Ron was leaning forward, his own hand holding onto the bedrail.

"He wouldn't stop…he locked…he locked…she turned away…I got out but he wouldn't stop."

"That's enough!" Toby's voice startled Ron. He twisted in his seat.

"Hold on, Toby. I just need to know what Mael did."

Stella stopped the tape recorder and stood up. She walked over to Sam and placed her hands on his shoulders. Toby leant past Ron and pressed the call button.

"Calm down, Sam. It's okay," Toby said. Sam's breath was coming in rapid gasps, his eyes wide and fixed on the ceiling. He tried to brush Stella's hands off him.

"I'm sorry, Toby, but Mael is denying he even knew Sam was in the house! I needed Sam to-" Ron stopped talking when he realised Toby wasn't listening to him. He picked up the tape recorder and gestured for Stella to follow him out of the room. Their exit was swiftly followed by the arrival of a nurse.

Toby had resorted to holding Sam's shoulders in an attempt to keep him still.

"Sam, I'm going to give you something to help you calm down."

"No, don't!" Sam didn't want to be drugged again. They had drugged him and he had been helpless.

"Well, then you have to calm down. Take a nice deep breath for me through your nose. Good, now breathe out through your…Sam, stop gulping air and start breathing."

"I'm trying to, Ginger…I want to relax…I'm trying."

The nurse looked up at Toby. "I'm going to sedate him. I don't think he's even with us at the moment." She went off to fetch a doctor and left Toby with a very agitated Sam.

"Why don't you stop her?" Sam asked and Toby reassured him that she was helping him and that he should do what they say.

Sam's wide eyes stared up at Toby. "Why didn't you stop them?"

Later Toby was to reflect on how such a little thing as a change of tense and pronoun had made his stomach turn and his breath catch in his throat.

"Sam, you need to listen to me, you're upset right now but when you're feeling calmer, we can talk and I'll explain-" Toby's words were cut short by Sam pulling his hand out of his grasp and turning away from him.

Toby slipped from the room when the nurse returned with the doctor. Sam had given up his resistance and lay immobile as the sedative was administered. Toby went straight to the White House where he told Josh and CJ that Sam had been given something to help him sleep so there was no point going in for a few hours. By the time he had finished some notes for a speech about foreign aid, Toby had almost managed to convince himself that Sam had just misspoken. Sam had said, 'Why didn't you stop them' but clearly he had still been talking about the nurse and meant 'her'. He also meant 'don't' not 'didn't'. Toby did such a good job of convincing himself that he didn't even feel like he was lying when he told Josh that the reason he wasn't going to the hospital later was to give Sam's parents some time alone with him.

The room was quiet apart from the gentle hiss of the oxygen and the occasional beeps of machines. Josh scratched his head and squeezed his eyes shut before refocusing on the paper in front of him. He was circling any passages that he wanted Donna to look into for him and had decided that it would have been easier to circle the passages that he didn't need researching. He sighed and chewed the end of his pencil before drawing another large circle and scribbling 'find data but only up to 1999'.

Sam had been asleep when Josh had arrived and hadn't woken. Sam's parents hadn't arrived yet and so Josh had decided to stay until they did or Sam woke up, whichever happened first.

His attention was drawn away from the papers in front of him to Sam, whose hand had started to move restlessly above the covers. Josh watched as it jerked towards the bedrail, curled into a fist and then relaxed again. Josh wondered if he should wake him but then remembered that Sam had been given something to help him sleep and so probably wouldn't wake anyway. Josh returned reluctantly to his work. He sighed loudly as he circled yet another paragraph and then, irritated by the work that would be needed just to understand its content, let alone argue against it, shoved the file back into his backpack. He pulled a newspaper out and settled down to read it.

Not long after, Sam moved his hand again. This time he scrunched the bedcover up and started to pull at it. He managed to pull it far enough to expose his feet before Josh, tugging at the other end, made him cease his efforts. Sam muttered something and turned his head away. Josh retrieved his paper from the floor but didn't go back to reading it. He had a feeling Sam wasn't done yet. He crossed his arms and leant against the bedrail. Sam was still again and Josh rested his head on his arms and waited. His patience was rewarded when Sam's arm flung up making clumsy attempts to remove the nasal cannula from his face.

"Hey, don't," Josh said as he carefully removed Sam's hand. Sam pushed Josh's hand away and scrubbed at his face. Again Josh replaced it and firmly pushed Sam's hand down. The line attached to his hand had twisted and as Josh lifted Sam's arm to untangle it he saw a series of bruises. He gently turned Sam's arm to get a better look. There were four bruises in a line and then a fifth just below them. Josh muttered a curse as he worked out what had caused the bruises. He had become used to the bruises on Sam's face but seeing the imprint of a hand on Sam's arm made his stomach turn. The room suddenly felt oppressively hot and Josh stood and walked towards the door trying to remember where he had seen the vending machine.

He rested against the wall by the exit and took a long gulp of water. Five people had entered by the time he had finished and the five blasts of fresh air combined with the water made him feel revived enough to go back to Sam's room.

"We were here this morning but you were asleep," Josh immediately recognised the voice of Sam's father. He opened the door to see him and Sam's mother sitting by the bed. Sam was awake and whatever Scott Seaborn was saying, he was shaking his head in response. Josh walked up to the bed and placed his hand on Jessica's shoulder.

"Josh!" Jessica stood and kissed him on the cheek. Since his parents had separated, Sam had visited his mother more frequently. Josh had accompanied him a few times and thoroughly enjoyed a weekend of pampering and home cooked food. Sam's father nodded curtly at Josh but didn't speak. After an uncomfortable pause, Josh announced that he needed to get back to work.

He walked closer to the bed. "It's good to see you awake. I'll see you later."

"I need some air, I'll walk out with you," Sam's father said. He waited until they were near the exit before he suddenly stopped and turned to Josh, "Well, this has worked out well for you, hasn't it!"

"I'm sorry?"

"President Bartlet- strong leader, what were the polls for that 70, 80 percent?"

"There is nothing about what happened to Sam that is-"

"No! You don't get to stand there and tell me about what happened to Sam. I know what happened to my son. What I want to know is why you let it happen!" Scott was breathing hard and he placed his hands on his hips.

Josh was struck by his resemblance to Sam. It wasn't just the pose but the determined face and look of righteous indignation. Josh found himself speechless. He wanted to know why he had let it happen too. He managed to say, "I tried…" but even he was aware of how pathetic his voice sounded.

"You tried what, to be a good Deputy Chief of Staff or to be a good friend? If it's the latter, you failed."

Josh watched Sam's father walk back down the corridor. "I tried to be both," Josh muttered as he turned and headed for the exit.

Toby saw Josh fly past his office and waited a few moments before following him. Josh's door was closed but he didn't wait for a reply after knocking. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Josh replied.

"You're back here. You said you were going straight to the Hill after seeing Sam."

"I was and then I remembered I'd left some stuff here and I needed to speak to Leo anyway so I…" Josh took a deep breath and closed the door. "Sam was asleep most of the time. I went to get a drink and when I got back his parents were there. His dad was…I think he feels… Let's just say I think I know where Sam gets his temper from."

Toby rubbed at his forehead. "What did he say?"

"He thinks I'm a good Deputy Chief of Staff, and that's always nice to hear." Josh flashed a nervous grin at Toby but the smile faded as he continued. "He thinks I'm a bad friend. He thinks the President used what happened to Sam to strengthen his image and increase his popularity."

"How upset is he?"

"Well, he's pretty pissed, Toby. When he was bawling me out in the hospital corridor I remember thinking he seemed upset," Josh answered before slumping into his chair.

"Leo said the President wants to visit Sam."

Josh's head shot up, "He can't. Leo will have to talk him out of it. Apart from the fact that it would end with the secret service restraining Sam's dad, Sam would hate the President to see him like that."

"Yeah, that's what I said, without the bit about Sam's dad." Toby walked towards the door and reached for the handle. "Did Sam say anything to you?"

"I told you, he was asleep."

Toby looked thoughtfully at Josh and started to speak but then mumbled that it didn't matter and walked out of the office.

Margaret told Toby to go straight in and he entered Leo's office to find him shaking his head. He looked up at Toby and rolled his eyes. "The President of the United States is sulking. He's not talking to his Chief of Staff and he's sulking."

"I heard that!" came from the office next door and Bartlet appeared in the doorway. "I have taken a stance of non-verbal communication in a bid to demonstrate my displeasure at the views that have been put forward to me."

"A position universally recognised as sulking, Mr President," Toby answered.

"And that's why you're not going to be my new Chief of Staff," Bartlet said as he disappeared back into his office.

Toby quietly explained about Sam's father and then suggested that it would be an equally bad idea for Leo to visit at the moment. Leo looked away and nodded, "Okay, you should probably talk to Mr Seaborn, or CJ maybe?" He kept his eyes fixed on the papers on his desk hoping that Toby wouldn't see the relief he had felt at the thought that he didn't have to visit Sam just yet. Toby walked back to his office and wondered how he was going to face Sam's father when he wasn't even sure he could face Sam.

Josh had fallen asleep, his feet were on the desk and his hand held a pen that had doodled a pattern of swirls on his shirt. The phone rang and he jumped, underlining the doodle with a bold stroke.

Donna greeted Josh with, "They've gone."

"Are you sure?"

"They left an hour ago, Josh! They've both gone back to their hotels for the night."

"Did you speak to them?" Josh sat up and rubbed at his face.

"No, Josh, I attacked a nurse, stole her uniform and staked out Sam's room until his parents had left."

"Are you still wearing the uniform?"

Donna ignored him. "The coast is clear, you can come visit Sam."

"Okay, wait! Why didn't you call me an hour ago?"

"I wanted to sit with Sam before Josh the-"

"Josh the what?"

"Nothing," Donna smiled. "Hurry up. I'll stay until you get here."

Josh replaced the receiver, stretched, and then cursed as he noticed the ink stains all over his shirt.

Even though Donna had said Sam's parents weren't there, Josh still peeped into the room before entering. Donna looked up and smiled as he entered. She stood up and kissed Sam's forehead, picked up her bag and walked over to Josh. "He's just woken up."

Josh held the door for Donna and then took off his coat, already too warm in the stuffy room. He sat down on Sam's left side, the side that the bruises weren't too noticeable.

Sam opened his eyes when he heard the chair scraping on the floor. "Hey," he croaked.

"Hey, do you need anything?"

Sam shook his head. Josh thought his breathing sounded worse than it had this afternoon but he supposed that was because Sam had been asleep.

"What dad say?" Sam asked as he closed his eyes.

"Nothing, he was just a little upset." Sam pulled a face but Josh didn't acknowledge that Sam knew he was lying. "CJ is going to come on her way to work tomorrow and Toby is coming later." Sam's breathing was definitely harsher. Josh thought. "When did the nurse last come in?"

"Little while ago, and doctor." The word doctor caught in Sam's throat and he coughed, wincing at the pain it caused. Josh put his hand through the gap in the rail and found his hand. Sam gripped it until he stopped coughing. Josh muttered about the bedrail being ridiculous. After a few attempts he managed to push it down. He replaced his hand over Sam's and listened to him breathing. His breaths were rapid and accompanied by a rasping sound.

"Sam?" Josh's uncertain voice made Sam turn to face him. Sam could see the worry in his friend's face but he didn't have the energy to try to appease him.

"Can't keep eyes open," Sam said and Josh smiled and told him to go to sleep. Josh would wait until Sam was asleep and see what his breathing sounded like then. The nurses were making constant checks. He told himself he was just being paranoid. Sam's breathing did ease as he fell asleep and it wasn't long before the quiet and warmth of the room produced the same response in Josh.

Josh felt someone shaking his shoulder and woke to find a nurse asking him to move so that she could put the bedrail back up. Josh's hand still lay on Sam's bed but Sam's hand was no longer beneath it. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes and then became more alert when he saw the doctor standing by the bed placing a stethoscope on Sam's chest. Sam was lying on his back, his hand trying to replace the covers that the doctor had pulled down. He was shivering so violently that Josh could hear his teeth chatter. Josh noticed the cannula had been removed and replaced by an oxygen mask. The doctor removed the stethoscope and the nurse applied some discs to Sam's chest. She leaned Sam forward and gently tapped his back producing a fit of coughing that, in turn, produced an attack of vomiting. The head of the bed was raised and Sam placed gently back. Josh had fallen asleep thinking that he had been paranoid about Sam's breathing and woken to find a flurry of activity around the bed and Sam hooked up to more machines than he could count.

The doctor glanced at him and nodded his head towards the corridor. Josh headed for the door and heard the doctor ask Sam if he needed anything for the pain. He turned back and saw Sam nod. Josh walked outside the room and leant against the wall.

"Are his parents in there," Toby called as he walked down the corridor seeing Josh outside Sam's room. He came and stood next to him and saw the expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I'm waiting for the doctor."

Toby tried to peer into the room but the blinds had been closed. He nudged Josh and gestured to some seats on the opposite side of the corridor.

"Try a heat pad first," the doctor instructed the nurse as he left the room and come to sit beside Josh and Toby.

"Mr Seaborn has bacterial pneumonia. He has obviously been through an ordeal and his body is finding it hard to fight the infection."

"He was fine when I got here, well not fine but..."

"This type of pneumonia can come on very quickly. We know Mr Seaborn had damaged ribs that weren't treated for quite a while. He would have spent a lot of time lying immobile and from what I understand he spent quite a bit of time in a basement. For some reason, he tries to suppress his cough and that won't have helped. All of these factors alone, together with the possibility that he may have breathed in some blood or vomit during the time he was held captive, would be enough to cause an infection in his lungs." He paused letting them digest what he had told them so far. "So, we're going to treat him with antibiotics, increase his oxygen and ease the pain-"

"Yeah, I heard you ask him about that, what pain?" Josh interrupted.

"Chest pain." Seeing the look on Josh's face he quickly added, "His lungs not his heart."

"Okay." Josh wiped a hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly. "Can we go in?"

"Yes, Nurse Sanders will be back soon. You can go in then." The doctor hurried away and Josh and Toby waited for the nurse to return.

"We should phone his parents," Toby said.

"Not yet."

"Okay."

When the nurse came back she had her arms full. Toby and Josh followed her into the room and watched as she placed the heating pad on Sam's chest. When he started coughing again she removed it pulled him forward and held a cushion to his chest. It obviously offered some comfort as Sam smiled at her as she lowered him back against the pillow and replaced the pad.

Toby stood at the end of the bed but Josh went straight to Sam's side. Sam was still shivering. Josh pulled the blanket up to Sam's chin and placed his hand on Sam's head. Sam turned onto his side and nestled into the warmth of it. Toby came and sat on the opposite side of the bed and pulled the blanket again to cover Sam's back and neck. He felt the shivers and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder as if the action would somehow still his shaking body. Sam mumbled something and both Josh and Toby told him to shush. Eventually Sam rolled onto his back, the shivers lessened in intensity and he fell asleep.


	8. chap 8

Chapter Eight

Mael lay with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He smiled as he pictured Ron Butterfield's face when he had told him that he hadn't known Sam was in the house. He knew when Sam was recovered he would be able to tell Ron all about his part in the kidnap, but in the meantime it was fun watching Butterfield and the other agents sweat it out. If Sam had died it would have been impossible to prove that he had known Sam was there. They could find all the forensic evidence they wanted. After all, he wasn't denying he had been in the house, just that he had known Sam was in it too.

Mael shuffled down the bed and rested his feet on the rail at the bottom. He worked through possible reasons for the mystery prisoner. Maybe he was an injured member of the FARC that Javier and Incul were looking after. Or, he could be on the run or someone who just needed a few days to lie low. Mael smiled again as he thought about the fun he was going to have tomorrow when he was questioned. The smile disappeared though as Mael's thoughts turned to Javier and Incul and how they had left him, coughing and spluttering on the floor. Incul had stepped over him in his haste to get out once they had realised Sam had gone. They had worked out many plans for what to do if things went wrong and that hadn't been one of them. Mael bit at his lip and frowned, he would have his fun until Seaborn gave him up and then he would start to talk seriously with Butterfield. He definitely had information that could get him out of here, maybe even out of the country.

CJ turned heads as she walked along the corridor. She was carrying a bouquet of flowers and a helium balloon. But most people were staring at her. Usually a commanding figure CJ was even more noticeable in a sky blue channel suit and matching shoes. She had chosen the suit on purpose.

"_Is the hat in your office?" Sam asked as he caught up with CJ on the way to the briefing._

"_What hat?"_

"_You need a pill box hat with that suit." Sam stopped walking as CJ stepped in front of him._

"_You think I look like Jackie Kennedy?"_

"_I'm just saying that the suit is nice and let me stress that I think you look good, but yes, it brings me to mind of Jackie Kennedy." Seeing CJ's expression Sam's eyes creased in confusion. "Not that that's a bad thing. I mean, Jackie Kennedy was a very stylish woman. Of course, she was a lot shorter than you…a lot shorter, but she had a certain 'flair' is what I'm saying." _

"_You think I'm too tall to carry it off?" CJ knew it was wrong to wind Sam up but she could never resist._

_Sam looked beyond her for help but no one was around to save him from the conversation. "I think you could carry off anything, and I think it's nice that you're paying homage to stylish women of the White House…not that that's what you intended to do…that was just my take on what you're wearing and anyway this is a style that never dates. The moment I saw you I thought, 'There goes CJ, paying homage to stylish women of the White House with flair and…style'."_

_CJ had her arms folded and was tapping her elbow with her fingers which was never a good sign. A wave of relief washed over Sam's face as he saw Charlie walking towards the Bullpen. "Hey there's Charlie. I have to go to speak to him about something that has absolutely nothing to do with what he's wearing." CJ waited until he had disappeared before she broke into a grin._

When she entered Sam's room the smile that she had intended to greet him with disappeared. Sam was coughing into a bowl held by a nurse. She was rubbing his back with her other hand. Sam was attached to a host of tubes and wires. The most alarming difference was the sound of Sam's laboured breathing and the striking disparity between the vivid bruises and the paleness of his face. Toby had called and told her that Sam had taken a turn for the worse last night but she still wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted her.

She waited until the nurse had finished before she sat beside the bed. Between the IV and the instrument that had been attached to Sam's finger, CJ found it impossible to hold his hand so she slipped hers underneath his instead. There was a pause before Sam curled his fingers around hers and then opened his eyes, greeting her with a small, tired smile.

"Hey, Sam. I hate to say it but aren't you meant to look better each time I come and see you?"

Sam's smile widened and he rolled his eyes. His eyes travelled to the balloon that bobbed forgotten in CJ's hand. CJ pulled on the string and held it in front of him. "This is from Carol."

Sam reached out and read the message that was attached to the string. "Nice."

CJ was shocked at how weak Sam sounded. She turned to the end of the bed where she had placed the flowers, "And these are from me." Sam thanked CJ and fingered the ribbon that hung from the bouquet. CJ stood and busied herself with finding a vase and arranging the flowers. The room was silent and Sam watched her work. When the flowers were done she lifted the balloon's ribbon from beneath her bag and walked around the room looking for a place to tie it.

"Window," Sam said and CJ walked over to it and tied the balloon onto the window latch. They both sat and watched it swaying from side to side. When CJ turned to Sam his eyes were closed but she knew by the way he held her hand that he wasn't asleep.

"I've got to get going," she whispered as she bent over and kissed him.

"Nice suit," Sam murmured and smiled, but the smile was soon replaced by a frown as Sam rolled onto his back. "Could…tell nurse…pain again." CJ left the room quickly and grabbed the first nurse she could find. She told her what Sam had said and then headed for the exit. After she walked out a couple walked towards the entrance. The man held the door open but the woman purposefully opened the door next to it. Scott Seaborn seemed unperturbed by his ex-wife's dismissal of him. In fact he seemed resigned to it.

"And he smells of TCP."

CJ entered Leo's office and on hearing Josh's statement realised she probably hadn't missed anything.

"There is a definite whiff of some sort of surgical lotion," Toby agreed. "That I could live with if he could actually put pen to paper and write a coherent sentence."

"It could be Tea Tree oil," Josh mused.

"CJ, did Carol catch you?" Leo asked, relieved to be able to start a sane conversation.

"Yeah, I'll talk to Bringley but I don't think it's anything to worry about." She sat down next to Toby. "Is this Sam's replacement you're talking about? It smelt like herbs to me, I don't know, a sort of-"

"Okay! That's enough! If you don't like the way he writes or you can't work with him then fine, get rid of him, but you find a replacement and you don't come to me if you start getting behind."

Leo went through the day's schedule which everyone knew would probably be flipped on its head by lunchtime. When he was finished he walked over and shut the door. "I don't know how long Sam's going to be in the hospital but I know that when he's out it's going to be a while before he can come back here. So, seriously, Toby, you need to find a replacement for Sam and make sure that it's someone that you can work with because he or she is going to be around for a while. "

Josh nodded, "Well, yeah, no one expects him to come straight back but he can start working from home maybe, short statements, research for Toby that sort of thing. I know I nearly went out of my mind when I was at home and if it hadn't-"

"And didn't we all know about that, Josh!" Leo interrupted. "We got fed up with you whinging and let you come back and I'm not going to make that mistake again." Leo stared at Josh until he lifted his head and returned his gaze. "Sam's a writer and the hand he writes with has been busted by some bastards just because he wrote what the President asked him to. I'm saying, he's not going to be okay just because the bones have healed."

The room fell silent. "I think he smelt like Basil," CJ muttered then turned to Toby, "Come on, let's go find you a new deputy." CJ and Toby exited and Josh followed. Leo remained where he sat for a while longer.

Toby walked down the hospital corridor and pictured Jason Charlton's face when he had told him he was to stand in for Sam until he returned to work. He had said the words 'stand in' at every possible opportunity and by the end of the brief meeting Jason had been under no illusions about the temporary nature of the position.

Toby allowed himself a slight smile at how Josh had declared Jason free of any unknown odours. He frowned when he thought of Jason arriving tomorrow, eager to make an impression, messing up Sam's office with his own belongings. Temporary- that would be the word for tomorrow Toby decided.

He looked into the room before entering and was glad to see that only Sam's mother sat by the bed. Toby had always assumed that Sam took after his father in looks and mannerisms. He had been surprised to discover that it was his mother that Sam favoured in appearance. After listening to a very detailed account of her route to Washington, Toby had realised that Sam had inherited some of his mother's idiosyncrasies as well. Unsure if Scott Seaborn would be coming back, Toby hovered by the empty chair.

"Please sit down, Mr Ziegler. Scott has gone back to the hotel. He never could cope when Sam was ill."

Toby smiled awkwardly and pulled the chair closer to the bed. The last time Toby had seen Sam he had been shivering. Now, he was lying still although Toby could see his hair was plastered to his forehead and his breathing sounded no better than it had before.

"He has a fever." Jessica explained. "He's quiet now. Earlier he was mumbling all sorts of things." A huge sigh from Sam made both of them turn and look at him. His head turned from side to side and then he quietened again. Jessica turned her attention back to Toby. "Scott thinks you gave up on Sam, that you could have helped him by negotiating with them or at least stalling for time. Is that true?"

Toby looked at Sam as he answered, "I don't have an answer for you. I wish I did." For a moment he had the urge to unburden himself to Sam's mother. In the quiet of the hospital room he wanted to whisper over the bed that he believed they could have done more. He wanted to take the opportunity to share his guilt and maybe be absolved of it. But then, Sam mumbled, Jessica leant towards him, and the opportunity for confession passed. When Sam had quietened, Toby sat up in his chair and continued. "We all knew at some level that something like this could happen, and if it did, that a policy of non-negotiation would be followed. And in theory, that is absolutely right because the moment a President of anywhere gives in to threats, then terrorists everywhere feel vindicated in their actions and so it goes on."

"But in practice?" Jessica insisted.

"In practice, principles are fine when you deal with them in hypothetical situations but when they are put to the test-" Toby stopped talking as Sam sat bolt upright in bed, staring at the wall.

"It's alright, lie down, honey." Jessica reached over and touched Sam's shoulder but he shrunk away from her.

"They shouldn't be in here," he complained. "Tell them!"

"There's no one here, just me and Toby."

"Tell them, they…they'll ruin it…they shouldn't be here." The energy that had driven Sam upwards now deserted him and he slunk back against the pillows. "Please tell them."

"They've gone," Toby said and Sam closed his eyes again.

Jessica stood and Toby reached out when she stumbled slightly. She leaned on the bed for support.

"Can I get you anything? Maybe I could ask the nurse if there is somewhere you could rest for a while?" Toby stood and walked around the bed. "Mrs Seaborn, you don't look very well. I can take you back to the hotel if you like?

Jessica straightened and was pleased to find she could keep her balance. "Please call me Jessica and yes, Mr Ziegler, it would be very kind if you would take me to the hotel."

"Of course," Toby walked towards the door and held it open, "and please, call me Toby."

By the time he returned to the hospital, Josh had arrived and was sitting outside of Sam's room.

"The nurses kicked me out."

Toby nodded and headed for the coffee machine. He came back with two cups and handed one to Josh.

"Are we pulling an all-nighter?" Josh asked.

"Yes."

When the nurse left the room Toby and Josh walked in and sat on either side of Sam's bed. Sam was restless. His head turned from one side to the other and occasionally he mumbled or sighed deeply. Josh and Toby sat in silence, both unnerved by the restlessness of their friend. The nurse returned and Josh moved so that she could get to the bed.

"Is his temperature still high?" Josh asked even though he knew what the answer was.

She answered as she removed the bedding, replacing it with one sheet. "Sam has a remittent fever which means that it is fluctuating but hasn't returned to normal." She placed an instrument in Sam's ear and waited for a beep before removing it. Josh sat down again and watched her record the reading on the chart. She rinsed a cloth in the sink and placed it on Sam's forehead. "Fever is the body's way of fighting infection, it's a good thing but I know that's hard to believe when you see someone like this." She moved away from the bed and handed Toby the cloth. "The doctor will be coming to see him soon," she said as she left the two men alone with Sam once more.

Toby looked down at the cloth as if he had never seen one before.

"Well, go on then," Josh said. When Toby didn't respond, Josh sighed and walked over to the sink. He filled a bowl with cold water and rested it on the bedside table. "Give it here, Florence." He took the cloth from Toby, rinsed it and placed it on Sam's head.

Josh was amazed at how quickly the flannel was warmed by the heat radiating from Sam. He applied it two more times before taking the bowl back to the sink and sitting down again. Another nurse came in and placed a fan by the side of Sam's bed. Its head travelled from side to side. Josh felt the air ruffle his hair as it travelled past him but noticed Sam's was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and didn't move as the cool air passed over him.

"I'll do it," Sam muttered.

Toby leaned forward and stared at Sam, but neither he nor Josh spoke.

"Leave it…they don't…don't touch them…they're in order." Toby's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of Sam's words.

"Books don't have legs!" Sam cried and Toby couldn't help but smile at the incredulous tone of his voice. Whoever was annoying Sam was obviously still doing it as he sighed, shook his head, and then quietened. Both Toby and Josh relaxed back in their seats.

Josh had fallen asleep by the time the nurse came again. She took Sam's temperature but this time she didn't record it on the chart but walked out of the room and quickly returned with a doctor. Toby leant over the bed and nudged Josh awake. The doctor studied the information on the machines, listened to Sam's breathing and then looked at his pupils. He shook Sam and called his name. When he asked Sam if he knew where he was, Sam mumbled that he wasn't allowed to tell him.

The doctor told Toby and Josh that they were going to try to bring Sam's temperature down and asked them to wait outside. Toby walked towards the coffee machine and then stopped. "You know, I actually think I can't face another cup of coffee!"

"Yeah, me too, it will pass." Josh tried to get comfortable on the plastic chair. "Are you going to phone Jessica?"

"In a while, Sam wouldn't know if she was there or not at the moment. She looked exhausted, and if Sam is still…like this tomorrow, she'll stay all day again."

It crossed Josh's mind to make a sarcastic comment about how caring and considerate Toby was being but he glanced at his friend's tired, worried face and for once, decided to say nothing.

Sam was calmer when they returned to the room. His hair was wet but not from sweat. The nurse emptied a bowl of water and replaced the bag that was attached to the IV. She turned from the bed but then turned back and pulled a comb from the bedside cabinet. Toby smiled as he watched her gently run the comb through Sam's hair.

"Side or middle?" she asked.

Josh smiled too, he'd seen Sam work through the night and still not have a hair out of place. "Side," he answered.

The nurse left and the room was quiet once more. The peace didn't last. Sam started muttering. The sentences were nonsensical at first but then Sam asked for a window to be opened. Hoping that he was aware of his surroundings Josh told him that it already was.

"I'm going to open the window! It's too hot."

In his delirium, Sam was in the Oval Office telling the President where he was going. Bartlet just carried on talking. Sam walked towards the windows and heard Toby call him.

"It's alright, Sam. Calm down."

"Am calm…hot…too hot."

Josh stood and walked over to join Sam by the window. "It's okay, you're alright. The windows are open."

"They're not, Josh!" Sam shouted and Josh put both his hands on Sam's shoulders.

"Okay, it's okay."

Sam watched as Josh walked over to the windows. The pane was divided into several smaller panes. Josh drew his hand back and Sam watched in horror as he smashed it through the first pane. Sam called his name but he didn't stop. Pane after pane was smashed and although blood was running down his arm, Josh didn't stop. "Josh! Josh! Stop it!" Sam cried but Josh only turned to him and smiled.

"It's alright, I'm here. Everything's okay."

Toby pulled Josh away from Sam's bed. He could tell that whatever Sam was imagining, Josh's presence wasn't helping. He could also tell that trying to break through to Sam wasn't working. Josh stood helplessly by the side of the bed as he listened to Sam telling him that his hand was bleeding. Toby walked over to the sink and wet the cloth the nurse had used. He placed it on Sam's forehead and without Toby and Josh's voices to fuel his delirious imaginings, Sam soon calmed down.

Toby looked at his watch and decided he would phone Sam's mother in an hour. He glanced at Josh who was standing with his hands in his pockets staring out of the window. It was pitch black and all that Josh could make out were the lights of the cars that blurred into an illuminated stream in the distance. Sam moaned again and Josh closed his eyes. He heard the water running in the sink beside him. Toby muttered that the water was warm. Josh didn't turn around.

"Por favour," Sam muttered. A nurse entered the room and worked around Toby to read the machines and take Sam's temperature.

"No será cancelado," Sam's voice was determined but when he repeated por favour he was pleading. Toby tried to read the nurses expression as she looked at the thermometer. She smiled encouragingly at Toby and he took that to mean that Sam's temperature was dropping.

"No será cancelado," Sam repeated. Toby was fascinated by Sam's sudden burst of Spanish.

"He's talking about something not being cancelled," the nurse said.

"Por favor, no, por favor," Sam was becoming more agitated and his eyes flew open. Toby felt his stomach flip. He knew Sam was reliving the kidnap and he wasn't sure that he wanted any words to accompany the images that he had already managed to concoct for himself.

"Mi mano derecha, soy deracho!" Sam brought his right arm up and tucked it under his left. "Oh God, please don't…por favour…please."

"What's he saying?" Toby asked the nurse.

"I'm not sure...I only really have holiday Spanish."

"What did he say?" Toby insisted.

"He's talking about his right hand. He's saying he's right handed."

Toby couldn't stop Sam reliving the rest of the ordeal. He couldn't break through to him and he couldn't even comfort him when it was over. Sam was oblivious to everything but the scene that he was reliving. Toby removed his tie and shoes and pulled his chair closer to the bed. On the other side of the bed Josh did the same thing. It was an hour before Sam stopped talking, mumbling or crying out. It was another hour before Josh and Toby succumbed to the warm and quiet of the room and fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

In the early hours of the morning, Sam's temperature had dropped enough for the blanket to be replaced on his bed. The nurse came four times during the night. Each time, Josh and Toby were asleep.

"It's a good job your friends are here to keep you company," she whispered as she helped Sam sit further up. He smiled in response and although he could make out the shapes beside his bed it was too dark for him to see who was there.

When Toby woke, the first thing he noticed was the blanket back on the bed. He looked across at Josh's empty chair and then finally up at Sam. At first he thought Sam was asleep. He was lying on his side facing away from Toby. But then he saw that Sam's eyes were open and he was staring at the window. The room was too high for there to be anything to see but sky, but Sam stared fixedly at it anyway.

The room was quiet and Toby was afraid that if he spoke he would startle Sam. He had just decided to cough gently when Josh came into the room, shutting the door loudly behind him. Sam turned away from the window and Toby realised he needn't have worried; Sam looked too exhausted to be startled.

"I just tripped a nurse over," Josh announced, "she was carrying this tray and I turned the corner and bam! They should have road markings or something. Everybody running around…I'm going to lie low in here for a while."

Sam turned onto his back and closed his eyes. He managed a small smile though and Toby was pleased to see it.

"You should go," Sam said without opening his eyes. "Work," he added.

"We should," Toby agreed and stood and stretched.

A nurse entered and asked Sam how he was feeling. She told him to sit higher and rearranged the pillows. She began to take readings from the various machines while another nurse joined her and placed a heated pad on Sam's chest. "This will have to do until the doctor sees you."

Sam nodded in reply and clutched at the pad then turned and stared out of the window again.

"We're going to head off," Josh said as he moved closer to the bed.

"Thanks for staying…you stay all night?"

"Yeah," Josh looked down at his shirt and tried to remember if he had a change of clothes at work.

"Thought so," Sam closed his eyes again. "Thanks."

"Your mother's coming in an hour," Toby said as he finished putting on his shoes and followed Josh to the door. He resisted the urge to turn back when he heard Sam start to cough. Josh had the same idea but Toby pushed him forward. "The nurses are with him. Besides, if I don't get some fresh air soon-" Toby stopped talking at the sight of Sam's father who was heading down the corridor towards them. He walked past them and straight into Sam's room. Josh and Toby were both relieved that he had pretended not to see them. The last thing either of them wanted, after the night they'd had, was to have a discussion with Scott Seaborn.

When they reached the exit, Toby took a deep breath of air and then began to walk slowly in the opposite direction to the car park. "I'm walking," he called to Josh over his shoulder. Josh waiting for a few moments, looked longingly at the car park, and then hurried after Toby.

Toby was checking his messages when Ron appeared at the doorway. He greeted Toby and ignored his unusually dishevelled appearance. "I want to talk to Sam again. Is he up to it?"

"You'll have to phone the hospital, he spent the night…he had a bad night but he seemed better this morning."

"Mael is still refusing to confess that he knew Sam was in the house. As soon as we have a statement from Sam we can stop playing his stupid games and start making some progress."

Toby put down the last of the slips of paper and sat down. "Do you think he'll give up the others?"

"That's not what we're after. There's no chance of that now."

"Well, that's the spirit Ron," Toby shook his head and sighed.

Ron walked over to the desk and leant on it. "I know this is hard Toby, and it seems like we're getting nowhere but it's the best we can do. Mael was caught for a reason. If the other two managed to disappear, there must be a reason why he didn't. Someone let him down, somewhere the plan went wrong and we can use that to our advantage." Ron was staring at Toby, forcing him to look up at him.

"Is Mael the one who broke Sam's hand?"

"No, I don't think he is." Ron was professional as always but Toby knew that not being able to find Sam had hit Ron hard.

"That's the bastard I want you to get."

"Me too," Ron straightened up and stepped away from the desk. "Me too."

Donna walked into Josh's office and read from her pad without looking up, "Your meeting with Burnfield has been pushed forward to ten and Leo wants to-" Donna glanced up at Josh and let the pad drop to her side. "Oh Josh! You slept in the office again!"

"I didn't," Josh protested.

"Well wherever you slept you slept in that suit."

"I didn't-" Josh began again but then looked at his rumpled jacket and gave up the fight. "I slept at the hospital. Sam's temperature was high and he was saying all this stuff and seeing things and I didn't want to go if…" Josh looked up at Donna. "I don't think he knew we were there but I didn't want to leave him like that."

Donna smiled and locked eyes with him. "You know what I'm going to do?" Josh shook his head. "I'm going to make you a cup of coffee!"

Josh smiled at Donna and slumped back in his seat. When she returned with the coffee he sat up and took it gratefully from her. "When I was in the hospital did I have hallucinations and mumble nonsense?"

"You did, but we didn't notice at first."

"Why!" Josh leaned forward, a concerned look on his face.

"Well, it was difficult to differentiate between your usual nonsense and your delirious nonsense," Donna answered and left his office.

"I bet I was forming great political strategies," Josh called after. "People should have written down what I said," he added to the empty office.

Josh and Toby both worked for a few hours and then went home and showered and changed before they had to start with the day's schedule of meetings, the first being in the Oval Office.

They arrived to find CJ sitting on Charlie's desk.

"Charlie's got more shoes than me," she announced as Josh glanced at the closed door and then at Charlie.

"More shoes that go with an outfit, not more shoes per se," Charlie explained.

"But I have more outfits," CJ said thoughtfully.

"Well I define an outfit as two matching garments and you include dresses so really, by my definition, you don't."

"Can we talk about something that an intelligent human being might find of interest?" Toby asked. He looked at the three people in front of him all mulling over whether they agreed a dress was an outfit. "Well, obviously we can't."

In the silence that followed Josh looked again at the closed door and then at his watch. Charlie ignored both actions.

"Do you have any waistcoats?" CJ asked.

"Yes, but they just complete the outfits I already have."

CJ was just about to point out that a lot of her dresses had matching scarves, when the sound of the President shouting stopped her.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare stand there and tell me that now!"

CJ slipped gracefully from the desk and glanced nervously at Toby.

"And don't you turn around how we dealt with this to suit your conscience!" they heard Leo shout back. There was silence, then the sound of a door slamming and then silence again.

After a few moments Charlie walked into the Oval, but found it empty.

"That didn't sound good," Toby said. "That sounded distinctly bad."

"Yeah," Josh agreed. "Think they were talking about the budget statement?"

Toby laughed sourly. "Yeah, that's exactly what I think they were talking about."

When Leo failed to emerge from his office, they all headed to Toby's. They discussed what they had heard, imagined worst-case scenarios and decided how they would deal with the situation if Leo and the President became an issue. They didn't think too deeply about Leo's comments about the President's conscience because that would inevitably lead into a discussion about their own and that was an area not one of them wanted to examine too closely.

Toby had planned to go home and eat before visiting Sam but, finding himself in the rare position of being able to finish early due to a cancelled meeting, he decided to go visit, collect his car and then come back to the office later. Jason, Sam's replacement, had been into his office four times to go over the same paragraph. Toby didn't have the patience or the inclination to help him and he waited until Jason was out of the office before sneaking out of his. He left a message for Josh that he was going to the hospital and would see him later.

He walked the short distance to the hospital and thought about Sam's father. He knew a conversation with him was likely and he planned what he would say as he walked. As he entered the corridor he could see that Sam had been moved to a different room. There had been an agent posted outside of Sam's room ever since he had been brought in and Toby couldn't see him.

The nurse who had been there the night Toby had stayed came hurrying up beside him. "We moved Sam to the high dependency unit this morning where they can keep a closer eye on him. I'm headed up there now. I can show you the way."

Toby followed her. "How is he?"

"Uncommunicative," she said and Toby stopped walking.

"He was talking this morning when I started my shift but then he had a visit from the police and his father and since then he hasn't said a lot."

"Were they in uniform?" Toby asked. It was possible the police had called but he suspected it was Ron.

"No, actually they seemed to know the Man from Uncle so I suppose they were agents."

Toby smiled at the nickname the nurses had given to the blonde-haired agent who stood outside of Sam's room. He saw the agent and nodded at him while he waited for the nurse to check that it was okay for him to go in.

The new room was less welcoming than the last one. Only a few of Sam's cards had been put up and no flowers were allowed. There was more equipment than in the last room too. Toby ignored it and looked instead at the equipment attached to Sam that he was used to. There was no window although the two walls that joined the corridor were more than half made up of glass. The blinds were open and Sam was in full view of anyone who passed through the ward. The helium balloon had been tied to a chair but the other gifts lay in a pile still waiting to be displayed. The change of room seemed to make little difference to Sam who lay staring at the wall in almost the same spot as the window had been in the other room.

Toby pulled a chair up to the bed and said hello. Sam didn't reply and so Toby called his name. Sam slowly turned towards him. He was glad when Sam turned away again as having Sam look at him but not reply to his greeting was unsettling.

"I had a free hour so I thought I'd come see how you are after last night." Toby rubbed at his forehead and cleared his throat before continuing. "The nurse said your father came this morning."

Sam's only response was to close his eyes.

"They told you why you've been moved here? They just want to keep a closer eye on you that's all, nothing to worry about." Toby glanced at the array of machines surrounding the bed and wondered if any of them were designed to make patients talk.

"Shall I put some of your cards up? Make it look a little more…" Toby waved his hand in the air before settling for the adjective 'homely'.

Sam's eyes followed Toby as he rose from the chair and walked over to the cards. He picked up some of the gifts and arranged them on a shelf in the far corner of the room. On the rest of the shelf he put a few of the cards and when there was no space left he stood holding a pile in his hand. He made a show of looking for another place to put them even though he knew there was nowhere before he reluctantly returned to Sam's bedside.

Sam had turned onto his back and sat propped up by the pillows. His attention was now focused on the rail at the foot of the bed. Occasionally a cough accompanied his constant raspy breaths but apart from that he made no sound.

"Did Ron come and see you this morning?" At the mention of Ron, Sam frowned. A confused expression crossed his face as he turned to Toby.

"The nurse said the police came," Toby explained. "I know Ron wants to talk to you again." Sam's frown returned and he looked away. A nurse passed and looked in at him and smiled. He didn't return it.

"I'm going to get a drink or…something," Toby said as he stood. He looked down at Sam for a few moments and realising it was pointless saying anything else, left the room.

Danny was the real name of the agent who the nurses called the Man from Uncle. Toby remembered him vaguely from Rosslyn. He had taken a statement from him and Sam at the hospital. Toby walked out of Sam's view and gestured for Danny to follow him.

"Has Ron been here this morning?" Toby asked.

"No, but Agents Myers and Brannon have. They took a statement from Mr Seaborn."

"How long were they here?"

Even though he was talking to Toby, Danny kept his gaze on the door to Sam's room, "Quite a while, but then Mr Seaborn's father turned up."

"And..." Toby prompted, aware that Danny felt uncomfortable about what he was saying.

"And…there was a bit of a scene. I don't know what was said but it was pretty clear that his father wasn't too happy with the agents being in the room." Danny walked back to the door and carried on his silent observation of the corridor. Toby thanked him and followed the sign to the exit.

"When did he go?" Josh asked Donna, a look of pure panic on his face.

Donna sighed. "A while ago. He said to say he will meet you later. If something had happened he would have told you."

Josh turned away and walked towards his office pivoting at the door and returning to Donna's desk. "Something's wrong. They must have phoned. Toby had a meeting this afternoon; he wouldn't just shoot off to the hospital for no reason." Josh retraced his steps to his office and back again. "There's something wrong. I can feel it."

"Toby's meeting was cancelled." Donna picked up her message pad. "Josh, I am going to the hospital now and will see you later on." She looked up at Josh in alarm. "God you're right! How could I not have read the hidden meaning in it?"

"Exactly!" Josh said triumphantly and then seeing the sarcastic expression on Donna's face, slumped against her desk. "Okay, read it to me again."

Donna started to read in a slow monotone, "Josh, I-am-going-to-the-hospital-now-and-will-"

"Okay, okay, stop doing that."

Donna returned to her typing and Josh returned to his office. Under her breath she started to count. She only got to eleven before Josh emerged from his office.

"I think I might go over there anyway," he announced nonchalantly. "If Toby's coming back here later I may as well do the same. I mean, I know he's going to want to talk to me about the budget statement so I may as well visit now and work later."

"Bye, Josh," Donna said without looking up from the screen.

Happy that he made his point that he was going strictly for work reasons, Josh headed out of the office leaving a smiling Donna shaking her head.

Toby wasn't sure whether to go back or not. The way Sam had stared blankly at him had unsettled him. It reminded him of the painful hour he had spent in the bar after the drop-in. Sam and he had sat in silence, drinking their beer until Toby had finally started a conversation that Sam, albeit stiltedly, had joined in with.

He didn't see Josh walking towards the entrance and his sudden voice made him jump. "Hey, Toby. I got your message and thought I'd come now and get some work done later…" Josh stopped talking as he looked at Toby's face and realised that his paranoia may not have been unfounded after all. "What's wrong?"

Toby let out a sound that was half sigh, half nervous laugh. "Sam doesn't seem to want to talk."

"What, about what happened? Well you can hardly expect him to be ready to-"

"No, I mean at all. I have just spent fifteen excruciating minutes, trying to get a response from him and he's just sitting there staring at the wall. Well, that's not true, a couple times he looked at me but believe me, I preferred it when he was looking at the wall."

"What did the nurses say?" Despite his concern Josh made a mental note to tell Donna never to doubt his gut instincts again.

"I haven't really spoken to…look, I'm probably overreacting." Toby didn't think he was though. Apart from the silence, it was the expression on Sam's face that had unnerved him the most. "You go up, maybe he'll talk to you, I'm going to get something to drink and then I'll join you."

"Yeah, okay." Josh started towards the entrance.

"Don't push him," Toby called after him. Josh nodded and then disappeared behind the automatic doors.

Toby had forgotten to mention that Sam had been moved and so, finding Sam's room empty and being redirected to the HD unit did little to calm Josh's rising anxiety. He stopped and chatted to Danny briefly in an attempt to calm down before going in to see Sam. He looked through the window as he spoke but Sam was lying with his back to him. Josh took a few deep breaths before opening the door and walking over to the seat by the bed.

"Hey buddy." Josh waited but there was no response although Sam did turn his head to look at him. Josh immediately realised why Toby had looked so agitated. Sam's expression was a mixture of confusion and anger. Josh couldn't even begin to imagine what thoughts were running through his head. He was just as relieved as Toby had been when Sam slowly turned his head away.

"I met with Ryan Parker today. Do you remember him?" Josh waited for Sam to react. Ryan had worked at the White House for a year. He had worked in the Counsels' Office but Sam and Josh knew him better from when he had made up the numbers on the basketball team. Sam continued to stare at the wall but Josh carried on regardless. "He's thinking of you and said to give him a call when you're feeling better because he needs someone to be a sub for his firm's team." Sam's only response was to close his eyes.

Josh pulled his chair closer to the bed. "Sam, don't shut us out. I'm not going to sit here trying to make you talk, but I am going to sit here, I'm not going away. So you can carry on ignoring me but I'm not going anywhere." Pleased with his speech, Josh leant back and waited for Sam to reply. He was sure he would and that, knowing Sam, he would apologise and Josh would have to spend the rest of the visit assuring him that he didn't need to. That is why, when Sam did speak, his words rendered Josh speechless.

"Why did you let them take me?" Sam was staring at Josh and it was Josh's turn to look away. Sam tried to push himself further up the bed, and Josh watched the cushion that he was supposed to hold to his chest when he coughed, fall to the floor. Josh looked back up and saw Sam was still staring at him. The anger that Josh had sensed earlier was all too apparent now. "Why did-" Sam stopped and breathed as deeply as he could, "why did you-" This time Sam stopped to cough and the noise of it ended Josh's stupor.

"I did try to stop them, but there were too many of them and they had guns." As Josh spoke he could hear the words that Toby had said to him when he himself had questioned why he didn't help Sam.

Sam continued to cough but was shaking his head, impatient to answer Josh. Josh knew that if he could calm Sam down he would be able to explain what had happened. He knew the effects of the drugs they had given Sam had been almost immediate and that his memories of being taken would be confused. But before Josh could do that, Sam had stopped coughing and moved on to a subject that Josh knew it wouldn't be quite so easy to explain.

"You let them…then you…you…" Sam closed his eyes and took another raspy breath, "you didn't do a fucking thing to get me back."

Josh reached forward and grabbed Sam's arm. "That's not true. That's not how it was. You have to listen, Sam." Josh wasn't aware of how hard he was gripping Sam's arm until Sam tried to pull away from him. Josh stood and placed his hands on Sam's shoulders. "We did everything we could, you have to believe that. The seven days you were gone were a living hell and there wasn't a moment that I-"

"No…didn't do anything." Sam tried to lean forward but Josh's hands held him in place.

"Sam, please calm down and then we'll talk."

"Talk?" Sam started to laugh caustically. "Talk? Fuck…you have…no…idea."

"Okay, okay, you don't have to talk, Sam. You don't have to do anything, but please calm down," Josh urged.

Toby, had had a drink, something to eat and a walk around the block and was making his way towards Sam's room. He hoped he had given Josh enough time to get Sam talking or at the very least, acknowledging that he was there. He quickened his pace when he heard Josh's raised voice. When he saw Danny beckoning he started to run. A nurse who had also heard the commotion came from the opposite direction and they entered the room together.

"Get off me," Sam shouted although the effort was obviously distressing him, "Get…fucking hands off me!"

Josh didn't want to let go. He needed Sam to listen and if he held onto him and waited then Sam would calm down. He just wanted him to listen.

"Josh!" Toby shouted, and his voice broke through to Josh as he reluctantly released his grip.

The nurse hurried over to Sam, who was still trying to sit up, and immediately placed her hands where Josh's had been. Her voice was calming though, reassuring and she expertly held onto Sam while she raised the head of the bed.

Josh walked backwards until Toby's hand on his back stopped him. They watched as the nurse continued to try to pacify Sam. The nurse glanced at the readings on a couple of the machines and called out some instructions to another nurse who had only got as far as the doorway before she went rushing off to carry out her task.

Sam raised his head and when he saw that Toby and Josh were still there he moaned, "No! Make them…I want them to go…want…out of my room!"

"Please leave," the nurse said. When they didn't move immediately she shouted, "Leave!" and Toby grabbed hold of Josh's arm and began to pull him from the room.

Before they reached the door the other nurse returned carrying a tray, a doctor hurried after her. Toby knew what was on the tray and he knew Sam would fight against being sedated. He didn't let go of Josh's arm until they were in the elevator. Neither man spoke. At the next floor a crowd of well-wishers got on. Josh and Toby moved to either corner as the happy crowd squeezed in. 'Congratulations! It's a girl!' was the writing on the balloon that bobbed above them. The man picked up the boy who held it and laughed when he repeated, "It a girl, it a girl, it a girl," over and over again.

Toby had a strong desire to grab the balloon and burst it. When the elevator reached the next floor he heard Josh call him and even though it wasn't the floor they wanted he followed Josh out.

"Can we take the stairs?" Josh asked.

Toby thought Josh looked like he was about to throw up.

"Yeah, come on," Toby said as he headed for the stairwell, the elevator door closing, and the cries of 'it a girl' fading behind them.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Toby and Josh had almost reached the entrance to the West Wing before either of them spoke.

"I thought I was helping," Josh said as they walked through the doors. "I couldn't make him listen to me. If he'd just listened-" Josh stopped talking as he and Toby signed in at the desk. They made their way towards the communication offices, Toby waiting for Josh to continue.

"If he'd listened I could have-" this time Josh stopped talking because he didn't know what he could have done. They continued on their way in silence. They reached Toby's office and Josh followed him into it. Jason immediately knocked on the door.

"I think you're going to be pleased with this," he called through the door to Toby.

"Just give me five minutes," Toby called back.

"Shall I push it under the door?" Jason replied.

Toby held up his hands in a gesture that demonstrated his disbelief at what he had just heard. "No, when I said give me five minutes, I meant go away, I'm busy, give me five minutes!"

"Right…okay…got it."

Toby shook his head and then sat behind his desk. Josh had already collapsed onto the sofa.

"So tell me from the beginning," Toby said.

"I was just saying anything that I could think of to get a response from him. I told him that he could ignore me but that I wasn't going anywhere, something like that. And then, from nowhere, he was asking why I didn't stop them from taking him. I couldn't think what to say to that."

"Well, no, I imagine 'I've been wondering the same thing myself' wouldn't have gone down too well," Toby suggested.

Josh ignored Toby's sarcasm. "He said I, I suppose he meant we, all of us, didn't do anything to try to get him back. Jesus, Toby, you should have heard his voice." Josh sighed deeply and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Well, there's nothing we can do now. We'll just have to wait for Sam to decide if he wants us to visit."

"And if he doesn't?"

Toby stood and walked over to the door and Josh asked him where he was going.

"Well I was going to go to the Mess so I that I didn't have to stay here and answer your question."

Josh rolled his eyes and got up reluctantly from the welcoming sofa. He followed Toby through the communications bullpen. "You know what we forgot to do?" he asked Toby as they started down the stairs.

"We forgot to collect our cars from the hospital."

"We did," Josh replied and they didn't talk about the hospital or Sam or what he had said for the rest of the night.

Every time someone walked past Sam's room, a piece of paper attached to a notice board outside wafted upwards and then slowly floated back into place. Seven people had walked by since Sam's mother had gone to phone her ex-husband. CJ knew this because her gaze had been drawn to the piece of paper each time somebody's movement had dislodged it from its precarious hold on the board.

Sam hadn't woken since being sedated. CJ had arrived to find Jessica telling a doctor that she didn't understand what had happened to upset Sam so much. The doctor had fetched a nurse who had been on duty earlier and she had told Jessica that Sam had coped well with being interviewed but then his father had arrived. The agents had left soon after but it was after his father had left that Sam had become very withdrawn.

CJ and Sam's mother had sat on either side of Sam's bed and Jessica had told her that Sam's father had left that morning to return to work. CJ suggested that maybe Sam was just upset about that and she had been surprised by Jessica's sardonic laugh in reply.

And now CJ found herself, alone by Sam's bed.

When Sam opened his eyes, CJ's attention was back on the notice board. An emergency on the unit had meant a flurry of activity that had resulted in the piece of paper finally losing its battle with the board-pin. CJ returned to looking at Sam and was surprised to see him squinting up at her.

"Mom?"

"It's CJ, Sam," she said as she leaned over and stroked some stray strands of hair away from his forehead, leaving her hand resting there when she was finished. "Your mom is here but she's just gone to make a call."

Sam's eyes closed again but a slight nod told CJ that he'd heard what she had said. Her other hand covered Sam's and she squeezed it gently. Sam opened his eyes again and looked up at her, "Don't let them drug me again, CJ."

"You're not drugged Sam, you're just tired," CJ lied.

"Don't like drugged. They drugged me." It was clear by the way Sam said they, that he wasn't talking about the nurses anymore.

"Ssh, just go back to sleep," CJ soothed.

"The man, asked me, he said he was late, he had a map…hotel, piece of paper…"

CJ told Sam to shush again but he carried on.

"Josh was waiting…Toby…but the man was slow…paper was folded, and folded, and folded."

"It's okay, you don't have to talk about this now. Just go back to sleep."

"Josh! I called Josh, he heard…stopped running though…didn't stop them…stopped running."

"Go back to sleep, Sam."

CJ turned in surprise at the sound of Jessica's voice from the doorway. Sam obeyed her and drifted back off to sleep.

She walked over to the bed, but didn't sit down. "Sam's father decided it would be a good idea to 'set Sam straight' about a few things before he left this morning." Jessica spoke quietly but she couldn't hide the anger in her voice. "He advised Sam to come live with him when he was out of hospital. To leave the White House and leave his so-called friends who obviously value political gain over Sam's life. He actually told Sam that the President had used the kidnapping to gain popularity and then went on to explain how, if he had chosen to, the President could have saved Sam _and_ increased his approval rating." Jessica walked over to the cards that still lay in a pile on the table. "I don't know what he thinks will be gained from saying those things." She put the cards back down and walked over to the bed. "He doesn't realise the damage he's done. Sam is in no state to start thinking about what happened in those terms."

CJ nodded and watched as Jessica gently stroked her son's cheek with the back of her hand.

Bartlet waited for Ron to arrive. He had only phoned him a few minutes ago and he was already impatient. He stood and walked to the outer office where Charlie was busy sorting through some files.

"Do you need something, Mr President?"

"No, no, I'm just waiting for Ron. Nothing important, just keeping me up to date. I just phoned him…spur of the moment thing. Nothing important though."

Charlie stared at the President. "Well, okay, sir. Do you need me around? I mean, if it's nothing important then maybe I can head off."

"It could turn out to be something important and then I would need you around," Bartlet countered.

Charlie couldn't work out what the President was planning but he was pretty sure it was more than an update that he wanted to speak to Ron about.

Ron walked briskly into the office and followed Bartlet who had already headed into it on seeing him.

Charlie shut the door behind them and the President got straight to the point. "I want you to make arrangements for me to visit Sam. Do you have enough time to arrange it for tonight?"

"Mr President, with all respect, I'm not sure this is a good idea. I would advise you-"

"Can it happen tonight?" Bartlet repeated clearly resolute in his decision.

"It can," Ron told him and left to start organising the President's security detail.

"Charlie!"

Charlie came into the room and waited to be told about the thing that wasn't important.

CJ and Jessica had talked in hushed tones since Sam had gone back to sleep. They had covered many topics and, both being tall women, they were deep into a discussion about skirt lengths when Sam started to stir. The sound of the whispered conversation was comforting and for a while he lay listening to the female voices. He recognised his mother's voice first and then CJ's. When he opened his eyes he saw his mother leaning forward and nodding furiously at CJ who was talking and stood by the bed, indicating the length of an imaginary jacket.

Sam smiled and closed his eyes again as he heard his mother speak.

"Yes! But my problem is that I have long legs but a short torso, but you would probably suit that sort of jacket."

CJ's chair scraped along the floor as she sat back down. Sam opened his eyes again and wondered if he would have to have a coughing fit before he got the women's attention. The oxygen mask felt tight on his face and he moved his arm sluggishly to adjust it.

"Hey there, sleepy head," CJ said as she saw the movement. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than before," Sam croaked.

"You look better, honey," Jessica lied.

"Don't know," Sam mumbled.

"Don't know what?" CJ pulled her chair closer to Sam.

"What I look like, haven't seen."

"Do you want to?" Jessica asked and reached down for her handbag, "I've got a mirror." Sam shook his head and she put the bag down again.

CJ picked up a package that was on the end of the bed. "One of the nurses brought this in while you were asleep. It's from John Delaney." She held up the book for Sam to see. "Speeches that Moved a Nation," she picked up the note that had been stuck to the book. "John says that he hopes to visit you when you are feeling a little better and he sends his best wishes."

Sam looked confusedly at CJ, "John Brookham?"

"No, Delaney, he helped get you to the hospital."

"I came in an ambulance," Sam said and he was sure of it, he could remember the sirens and the lights. "Was John there?"

"That's right," Jessica lied again. It didn't matter. Each time Sam woke he seemed to have forgotten most of what was said to him before anyway.

CJ leant forward and kissed Sam's forehead. "I need to get going. Is there anything you need? Anything you want me to do?"

"Tell Josh...tell Josh…"

"Tell Josh what, Sam?"

Sam shook his head, "No, nothing…just…nothing."

CJ glanced at Jessica but she was purposefully staring out of the window. She looked back at Sam and tried again, "Is it okay for Josh and Toby to visit tomorrow?"

Sam closed his eyes and then sighed as deeply as his damaged lungs would allow. He shrugged and CJ had to lean closer to catch what he said next. "Don't care…whatever."

CJ could tell from the look on Sam's face that he did care, that he cared very much, but Sam had said he didn't and she knew that was what she should tell Josh and Toby. She said goodbye to Sam and Jessica and walked slowly down the corridor. When she reached the exit she phoned Toby and told him that Sam needed a few more days.

Jessica stayed with Sam until he fell asleep again. She walked out of the room and said goodnight to the agent on duty. As she walked towards the exit she noticed that there seemed to be a lot of activity for late in the evening. Usually when she left the hospital at this time all she met were janitors and a few nurses or doctors. This time she passed a number of men in suits and police officers. She noticed, as she got into her taxi, that the back of the hospital had been cordoned off and as she closed the door she saw a man talking into his sleeve. It was only the next morning that she realised what all the activity had meant and by then it was too late.

Charlie sat and waited for the phone to ring. Three hours had passed since Bartlet had told him about the thing that 'wasn't very important'. Charlie wondered if he should try to talk the President out of visiting. He knew that he and Leo had fallen out and judging from the atmosphere had not resolved their differences. Every time the President had suggested visiting Sam he had been talked out of it. Charlie knew that there would be good reasons for that and as the phone started to ring he hoped that tonight's secret outing wouldn't end badly for Sam or Bartlet. He had a horrible feeling it was going to though.

Bartlet walked quickly through the deserted hospital kitchen. Ron had said very little to him since they had got into the car.

"I'll tell you what, Ron. Next time I want to go on a spontaneous outing you can refuse to sanction it."

Ron smiled slightly as they turned a corner and started up the stairs. "That sounds like a good deal, Mr President, but how do I know you won't just make up a trip that you have no intention on going on just so I can cancel it."

"Well, I probably will, but if it would make you feel better..."

They rounded the corner and started down the corridor which led to Sam's room. Danny nodded at Ron as he saw him approach and stepped aside for the President's detail to enter the room.

Bartlet stood waiting for the agents to come out. When they did they were followed by a nurse. "Mr President, Sam was sedated earlier today but he has been awake for a while. He's still a bit drowsy though."

"Thank you nurse…"

"Stanton," she replied and brushed a hand over her clean uniform that she had stolen from her friend's locker when she had heard of the President's visit.

"Can I go in, Nurse Stanton?"

"You can, Mr President."

Bartlet thanked the nurse and waited for Ron's final nod before entering the room. He closed the door behind him but didn't walk towards the bed. He took a moment to adjust to the sight of Sam who lay propped up, his eyes closed. He looked at the cast on his hand and remembered Leo's shocked voice when he had told him what they had done to Sam. He studied the bruises on Sam's face and arms and felt his stomach lurch as he realised they were worse than he had imagined. He listened to the hiss of the oxygen machine and the sound of Sam's wheezy, rattling breaths. After a few moments he walked towards the bed and sat down in the chair. "Sam…son."

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Bartlet. He had known the President was going to visit as soon as he had seen the agents looking around his room.

"Sam," Bartlet repeated, this time placing his hand on Sam's arm. Sam looked up at him and, like Toby and Josh, Bartlet was glad when Sam looked away again. He didn't know what he had been expecting but it wasn't this. Sam seemed indifferent to him and his indifference made Bartlet forget all of the things he had planned to say. It appeared that just getting Sam's attention was going to be the first task.

"Son," he repeated.

"_Now listen son, I've got to go back to Santa Monica today but I want to say this to you before I go."_

"Ron is pretty pissed with me right now, but I wanted to come and see you."

"_Bartlet will tell you how hard it was for him and what an awful decision he had to make and you just have to keep telling yourself that it is all bullshit. Sam, look at me and listen!"_

"I want you to know that the days you were gone were seven days of living hell. I don't know how we managed to get through it. I'm pretty sure Josh nearly didn't."

"_They didn't save you Sam, you saved yourself. And be under no illusions son, if you hadn't got out of that house by yourself then you wouldn't be here today."_

"When you're better, we can talk more but for now, just get well and come back to us, Sam. Apart from anything else, I don't want to see Toby go to jail for the murder of your replacement."

"_You see, I didn't know, I didn't know that they weren't doing anything. I trusted him too, Sam. Bartlet told me he was doing all he could. Ziegler said they had some leads…I didn't know."_

"I bet Toby hasn't told you that has he. He actually hid in Leo's office yesterday to get away from him. I think his name is Jack or Jason. He's driving Toby nuts though. I can only imagine what the one he fired was like."

"_Promise me, Sam, I won't leave until you promise me you'll stand up to them. Don't let them tell you what happened, you know what happened, they did absolutely nothing to get you back, that's what happened. They can spin it, or whatever it is they do, but it's as simple as that."_

"When Leo came and told me that you were safe I-"

"Shut up…please, just stop," Sam said, silencing Bartlet immediately. "I don't want to hear this…I don't care what you think…what anyone thinks. Your hands were tied- I get it, but my hands were tied too." Sam was becoming even more breathless but Bartlet was too surprised by his outburst to try to calm him down. "They tied me up…beat me…they broke my hand and you…" Sam lay back exhausted. "They were killing me," he finished, almost in a whisper.

His eyes were squeezed closed as he tried to ignore the pain in his chest and slow his breathing. "Please go, I can't…"

"Okay, it's okay. I'm going Sam, I'll get a nurse- do you need a nurse? I'll get a nurse."

Sam was oblivious to the President's fumbling words or the hand that squeezed his shoulder. He could only hear the sound of his wheezing and the beeping machine beside him. Bartlet walked quickly out of the room and was relieved to see the nurse he had spoken to earlier waiting outside. "I think he needs some help," Bartlet said to her and she walked quickly past him and into the room.

Bartlet headed straight for the stairs, the agents keeping up with his rapidly increasing pace. He didn't say a word but Ron could tell that his visit with Sam had gone about as well as his had. In fact, he suspected it had gone a great deal worse.

Charlie put the phone down and went into the Oval Office. He hadn't been surprised when he had been called at five am and told to get the senior staff in. Leo was already there and standing by the President's desk. "I phoned Josh, Toby and CJ. They're all on their way," Charlie announced from the doorway.

Bartlet nodded, watched closely by Leo. "So, are you going to tell me what this is all about because it's beginning to feel a bit like one of those movies where the detective gets everyone together to announce who the murderer is."

Bartlet ignored him and yelled for Charlie to bring him some coffee.

Toby arrived first, swiftly followed by Josh and then CJ. Bartlet was leaning against the desk, his arms folded. Leo stood beside him but the rift between the two men was still evident to all in the room.

Josh tried to catch Leo's eye but couldn't. A sudden wave of panic swept over him, "Oh God, its Sam isn't it, something's happened."

"Sam's fine," Toby answered. I called the hospital before I left home.

"Except he's not, Toby, is he!" Bartlet spoke accusingly but Toby wasn't sure exactly what it was he was being accused of.

"I told you that I wanted to see Sam and I was told that wouldn't be a good idea. I didn't question it. I went along with it because I trusted that you were doing what was best for Sam." Bartlet sighed and suddenly aware of the tension in the room gestured for everyone to sit. He continued to stand. "Last night I decided that I would make an impromptu visit."

"Oh God," Toby muttered.

"Sam is ill, I knew that. Sam is battered and bruised, I knew that too. Sam can't look me in the face, well, I have to admit that was a surprise!" The agent glanced briefly into the room at the sound of the President shouting and then turned quickly away again. "And I imagine the reason I was advised not to invite Sam's parents to the White House was because they feel the same." Bartlet was now walking in-between the chairs but suddenly stopped and sat down on the sofa opposite Toby, CJ and Josh.

"Anyone here feel the same?" he challenged.

Toby glanced at Josh but he didn't speak, nor did CJ or Leo. Nobody spoke. Eventually Bartlet leant forward, rubbed his hands over his face and then looked up. "I shouldn't have gone to see Sam. I thought it would help. But to be honest, I thought it would help me. I wasn't really thinking about how Sam might react."

"We should have told you why you needed to stay away," Toby said to his clasped hands.

Josh broke the awkward silence that again descended on the group. "We should play that game where you stick the names of famous people on your forehead and have to guess who you are, but we could put the name of the person we are blaming instead."

Bartlet smiled and the tense atmosphere was eased slightly.

Throughout this exchange, Leo had stood silently by the desk. He walked over to the others and sat next to the President. "We don't need to do that Josh. I think we're all playing the blame game already. When you phoned me that afternoon, Toby, I knew the chances of seeing Sam again were non-existent. Sure, I prayed that we would find him but I knew if we did see him again it wouldn't be because of any negotiations or discussions with the men who took him. We all know that if Sam hadn't got out by himself he wouldn't be here now. So let's just be done blaming ourselves and each other," Leo looked pointedly at Bartlet who nodded imperceptibly in return. "We can deal with this if we are honest about what's going on. We can deal with this because we are intelligent, realists who know deep down that we did all we could do."

Leo sat back but he continued to look at his staff and waited for them to respond. He knew they would only be able to help Sam if they could begin to resolve their own emotions about what had happened.

Finally, Josh looked up at Leo and spoke. "I bet being an unintelligent realist is much more fun.

There was another silence, but it was the last one. Toby smiled and CJ laughed and somewhere amongst it all Bartlet and Leo exchanged a look and resolved their argument.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The gunfire came from nowhere. Members of the Medellin Cartel were taken totally by surprise. They immediately held up their hands, some of them lay down on the floor. They knew the drill. Twenty miles away, another group of drug and arms dealers were doing the same thing. The Colombian Police, American soldiers and agents from both countries had swarmed the two warehouses. One of the men lay with his face turned to the side. He could see the soldiers' feet and then hear their whoops of delight as they discovered the stash of drugs. It was the largest operation of joint forces ever and had led to the biggest seizure of drugs and illegal arms in eighteen years.

"100 kilos of high-grade heroin, $23 000 worth of amphetamine pills, 124 semi-automatic rifles and countless rounds of illegal munitions, $28 000 worth of forged notes and 26 men captured. Four of them are major players in the Medillin cartel." Ron couldn't help grinning as he read the list of what had been seized to the President.

"Leo! Did you hear-"Bartlet changed his mind and walked quickly out of his office, "Charlie! Get the senior staff in here," he swept past Charlie's desk and into Leo's office. Leo had already gone into the Oval Office when he'd heard his name called. Bartlet walked through Leo's empty office and back into the Oval, where Leo was now standing talking to Ron.

"Ron just told me," Leo beamed. "I knew President Miguel was optimistic but I never thought we'd get a result like this."

"Two nations, Leo," Bartlet started.

"Don't," Leo moaned.

"Two nations. A unification of will and strength, two nations joined by a bond of outrage and a conviction to rout the common enemy." Bartlet pulled off his glasses and looked up to see Toby who was closely followed by CJ and Josh.

"Two nations, Toby!"

"Yes sir," even Toby was smiling. The joy in the room was contagious.

"CJ, you need to speak to Ron. I want every item of what was recovered detailed in your briefing. Ron will enjoy reading it to you. I think he knows it by heart. In fact, read it to them now Ron."

Ron started to repeat the list that he had read moments before. Barlet sat down next to CJ and took in the smiling faces of his staff. He glanced at Leo and saw his own grin reflected back at him.

When Sam had been writing the Statement of Aims, Bartlet and the Colombian President had been busy putting stage one into operation. Months of undercover work and intelligence gathering had resulted in American and Colombian joint forces succeeding in pulling off a drug haul so large that it had surpassed everyone's expectations. Not only was it an accomplishment in itself, but it sent a message loud and clear to the drug cartels that President Miguel was cleaning up and that he had friends who were happy to help him to do it.

"We should tell Sam," Toby announced when Ron finished talking. Sam had been in hospital for six days and was slowly improving. Toby and Josh hadn't visited him for the past four days. They had both phoned though. Often a nurse answered and gave their messages to Sam. A few times, she had handed the phone to Sam and he had spoken briefly to them.

"Go phone him now," Leo suggested, "before the press gets all the details."

Toby nodded and left the room. The others soon followed, Bartlet calling, "Every item listed in the briefing," at CJ as she closed the door.

Sam reached over and fumbled with the phone which had been placed so that he could reach it with his left hand.

"Sam, it's Toby. I wanted to tell you before you saw it on the news- the raids were carried out last night. They captured a hoard of drugs, counterfeit money, guns and a few members of the biggest cartels in Colombia."

"What were their names?"

"Who?"

"The men they caught, were they…"

Toby closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead as he realised what Sam meant. "I don't have their names but I know it wasn't the men who-"

"It's alright, it was a stupid question." Sam had known that the first phase of the joint forces plan was happening soon and, even though he knew it was unrealistic to do so, he had hoped that Incul and Javier would somehow be involved and captured.

"It's not stupid, Sam, I hoped it was them too." Toby heard Sam sigh.

"Okay, thanks for letting me know." There was a pause before Sam asked, "I'll see you later?"

Toby closed his eyes again but this time in relief. "I'll come over this afternoon."

"Okay." Sam hung up.

Toby replaced the receiver, glanced at his watch. If he gave the mission statement he was working on to Jason then he could probably be out of the office by four. He walked next door and handed Jason the file and his notes. Jason decided that Toby was even more unnerving when he was smiling.

Toby was nearly out of the West Wing when he heard Ron call his name. He waited impatiently for him to come over. He had been held up and was going later than planned and the more time that passed the more anxious Toby felt about the visit.

"It's good news at last," Ron said as he walked towards Toby. "I've just sent two agents over to Colombia to talk to one of the men they captured last night. He was being interviewed and started to bring Mael's name into the conversation. He also mentioned Incul and Javier. He hasn't said anymore, but it's clear he might have something to offer us. The press never released the names of the men who took Sam and we already know that his abduction wasn't general knowledge within the FARC. This could really lead to something."

"This day just keeps getting better and better doesn't it," Toby said as he smiled at Ron and walked out of the building.

When he got to the unit, the doctors were in with Sam and so he took a seat outside. Nurse Stanton passed and then did a double-take.

"I thought it was you! Does Sam know you're here?"

"Not yet. How long do you think they'll be?"

She looked into Sam's room, "Well that's Doctor Mitchell. He'll be looking at Sam's hand I should think. I doubt he'll be much longer." She hurried off as her name was announced over the intercom. Toby stood and looked into the room. He recognised Doctor Chenner. The doctor that the nurse had identified as Mitchell was examining Sam's hand while Doctor Chenner listened attentively to what he was saying. Neither of them seemed to be paying much attention to Sam except to ask the occasional question. Toby couldn't see Sam's face. The curtains were pulled around the bed and Toby sat back down.

After a while the curtains were pulled back and the two doctors left the room. Toby watched as they looked at some X-rays that had arrived. Doctor Chenner acknowledged Toby and then walked towards the elevator leaving Doctor Mitchell to return to Sam's room alone. He walked over to Sam's bed and started to talk but then Sam stopped him and the doctor walked out of the room.

"Are you Toby Ziegler?" he asked Toby who nodded and tried to pretend that he hadn't been staring through the window a few seconds before.

"Sam said he'd like you to come in," Doctor Mitchell explained and held the door open for him. Toby smiled at Sam as he walked towards him and stood by the bed. The doctor walked around to the other side.

"Sam, we've had a look at the X-rays of your hand and you'll be pleased to hear that we don't need to re-set any bones or carry out any further surgery at the moment. We can treat the broken scaphoid bone in your wrist with the cast. We will need to X-ray your wrist over the coming weeks to make sure it is healing okay. If it looks as if there is a risk of non-union of the bone then we will need to operate to reset it or maybe pin it." The doctor paused and allowed Sam to take in the information. Toby listened carefully. He knew Sam was embarrassed by how he seemed to be forgetting things that were said to him and so he made sure that he memorised every word.

"Okay?" Sam nodded at the doctor and he continued. "All of your finger bones, or phalanges, are broken except for your little finger. Also some bones in your hand are fractured. There are many different types of fractures and you have sustained quite a number of them. Your thumb isn't broken and I need you to start moving that as much as you can. A physical therapist will see you later today and show you some exercises. A wound care specialist will also come and see you later on in the week. We're going to remove the splints on two of your fingers as we want you to start moving them as soon as possible. The process of healing is going to be a long one Sam, and if you are going to regain full use of your hand then you need to follow all of the advice that the members of the hand trauma team give you."

"You said if I am going to regain full use, what are the chances that I won't?"

"Hand injuries are incredibly complex to treat. There is always a chance that you will experience stiffness in your fingers. Scaphoid fractures are particularly complex and can result in arthritis, ongoing pain or in some cases a slight deformity. But what you have to hold onto is the fact that despite the delay between your injury and treatment, the prognosis for a return to full mobility is very good. Do you have any other questions?"

Sam shook his head and looked up at Toby. The doctor followed his lead and looked up at him also. "How long will he be in a cast?"

"Six to seven weeks depending on what the X-rays reveal."

Doctor Mitchell reminded Sam about the importance of moving his thumb and doing whatever exercises he was told to and then left him and Toby alone. Toby placed his coat on the end of the bed and pulled up a chair.

"That sounds good, what Doctor Mitchell said, it all sounds…good."

Sam nodded and pushed himself up the bed. The oxygen mask had been replaced with a nasal cannula and Sam's breathing sounded much better, but Toby didn't mention that. If he had, he would have been drawing attention to the fact that Sam had refused to see him for the past few days.

"Is your mother still here?" he asked instead.

"She's doing some sightseeing. I think she's planning to come and stay at weekends." Sam reached over and picked up a book that lay on the bedside table. "This was from John Delaney."

Toby took it from Sam and started to read the blurb on the back. "That was nice of him. Have you read any of it yet?"

"Was John the man who bought me to the hospital?"

Toby put the book back on the table. "Yeah. Don't you remember?"

"I didn't but I'm starting to. Last night I remembered John talking to me…I remembered him stopping. The first car didn't stop. He looked at me and then he locked his door…I remember that." Sam closed his eyes and sighed. "There was a little girl too. She was smiling and then she saw me and…stopped smiling. Her mom pulled her back into the house. They were frightened of me."

"They were just frightened, Sam. They weren't frightened of you."

"Would you have stopped?"

Toby wondered how many conversations he would have like this, helping Sam to make sense of what happened. "I honestly don't know. I'd like to say that of course I would stop and help someone, but I don't know."

"I don't know," Sam said and Toby wasn't sure if he was making a statement or simply echoing what he had said. Toby told Sam what was happening at work, being careful not to mention the President or Josh. Sam listened but Toby could tell he had no real interest in the subject. After a while, Toby leaned back and picked up his coat.

"Thanks for letting me visit. It's good to see you looking better." He stood but made no move to leave. He wanted to ask if Josh could visit but his time with Sam had gone so well that he was afraid to say anything that might cause any friction.

Sam knew why Toby was reluctant to leave. He also knew he needed to face Josh at some point. "Is Josh around tonight?"

Sam could see the relief on Toby's face. "I'll tell him to come later." Toby walked to the door. He didn't think anything of it when Sam shouted out for him to leave it open. Later, when Sam was out of the hospital, it would come back to Toby and he would realise its significance.

"I am grateful to my son for getting home to me, no one else."

CJ's head sprung up at the television screen.

Carol appeared at the door. "Are you watching?"

"I am. Is Toby in?" CJ was already out of her seat and moving past Carol.

"He just got back," Carol called after her as she headed towards his office.

Toby was hanging up his coat when CJ walked into his office and said, "I am grateful to my son for getting home to me, no one else."

"Why has my stomach just lurched?" Toby asked without turning around.

"Because it's attuned to bad news," CJ sat down on the sofa and waited until Toby had turned around, "It's already on cable, and, following footage of a smiling President and images of the clear up after the drug raids, it makes for quite a sound bite."

Toby slumped into his chair and put his head in his hands. "And it's being presented as the words of an emotional and exhausted father?" he asked hopefully.

"No, it's being presented as an indication that Sam's father isn't the only one who is unhappy with the way the administration dealt with Sam's abduction."

Toby groaned and dropped his head to the table. "Ginger! Get me the next five minutes Leo's got." Toby stood up and CJ followed him out of the room. "Talk to your contacts, find out who's running with the story." He headed to Josh's office to tell him that Sam wanted him to visit, pleased to have some good news to depart before he told him about Scott Seaborn's quote.

Josh was surprised to find that he felt nervous as he got out of the elevator and walked towards Sam's room. He knew that Sam didn't really blame him for what happened, but he also knew that confused memories and snatches of images could conspire to make emotions very jumbled. He had waited a long time after Rosslyn before he had asked what had happened after Toby had found him. Once Toby had described the moments before the paramedics had come to him, Josh had felt a lot more secure in the snatches of images and voices that he could recall.

He found Sam's door wide open and walked through to see him sitting up in bed reading the book that John had given him. On seeing Josh he closed it and put it back on the table. Josh walked over to the bed and sat down, his arms resting on his legs and his hands clasped tightly together.

"I just wanted to get to your place and watch the game," Josh began and Sam nodded. "That man came up and started talking to you and I thought you were about to embark on a longwinded explanation of directions and alternative routes. I didn't think anything was wrong, it seemed…odd that he was taking so long to unfold that piece of paper, but I didn't think anything was wrong." Josh relaxed slightly but still leant forward and didn't look up at Sam. "I saw him blow the drugs in your face, but I couldn't make sense of what had happened. I heard you call out and I started to run towards you. The man with the folded paper pulled a gun out and held it against you. Another man appeared from nowhere and grabbed your arm. I was still running though but then a van pulled up behind you. Three men got out. They were wearing masks and they had guns. I stopped running then, partly because Toby grabbed me and partly because I froze at the sight of the guns. They had guns Sam and there were five of them. The drugs took effect on you almost immediately, you could hardly stand up. They dragged you into the van. There was nothing I could do." Josh sat back and placed his hands on the arms of the chair.

"Thank you," Sam said. "I remembered the man and the paper and then just you running and stopping. There were five men?"

"Yeah, and five guns, and they looked like the sort of men who would have a few stashed in the back of the van, so I didn't want to chance it."

"Like the A-Team," Sam smiled.

"Exactly like that, but baddies not goodies," Josh returned the smile.

Sam reached over and picked up the book. There was a piece of paper marking a page and Sam held it out to Josh. "Give this to Toby. Tell him that he can eat his hat." Josh took the book and put it in his back pack. He was about to ask Sam what it was all about, when Jessica came into the room. She was holding a magazine and a bag of grapes.

"I simply cannot believe that man!" she said as she dumped the grapes and magazine onto Sam's bed.

"What man?" Sam asked.

"Your father! I was just in the shop downstairs and suddenly he appears on Fox saying how…well I forget what he said but he's basically continuing the theme of what he said to you before he left. And it's no good playing innocent, I know what he said to you and I know you don't want to talk about it, but there it is…out in the open…on national television, thanks to your father."

"Sit down, mom," Sam said as he watched her pace back and forth at the end of the bed.

Josh looked at Jessica who seemed to be slowly calming down then turned to Sam who was studying the front cover of the sailing magazine. He waited for Sam to speak, hoping that he would say that his father was wrong or that it would all blow over.

"This is Martin Conroy's boat," Sam said instead as he opened the magazine and Josh knew he could add his father's comments to the list of things Sam wasn't going to talk about.

The next day, Sam was moved back to the ward he had been on before. The doctors had said that if he continued to make good progress he would be able to go home at the end of the week. Leo took it upon himself to make sure that Sam's return home was as easy as possible.

"Do any of you know what Sam's plans are for when he gets discharged?" Leo asked CJ, Toby and Josh after the morning staff meeting was finished.

"His mother is staying for the first week and I think she's planning to come back at weekends as well," Toby said. "I know he wants to go home. I don't think he wants to stay with anyone."

"But his hand is still in plaster right? He's going to find that hard, and I would think he'll need pretty intensive therapy for that." Leo was searching his desk for something as he spoke. "I've been looking at agencies…I made a list…somewhere…here it is! I've got the names of some physical therapists who will do home visits. Will one of you sound Sam out about it? It would mean that he wouldn't have to worry about getting to the hospital and he could probably have more therapy than the hospital would provide."

"Things like that don't come cheap, Leo. He may just want to go with what his insurance-"

"I'm paying," Leo interrupted.

Toby raised his eyebrows at CJ. "That's a nice gesture, Leo, but you might find Sam wants to get a little control back after being-"

"It's not a gesture," Leo interrupted again. "I'm just trying to be practical about what we can do for Sam when he gets home."

"You didn't buy me a nurse," Josh complained. "Man, I could have whiled away a few hours if I'd have had a nurse making regular home visits."

CJ cuffed Josh on his head and Leo shook his. "Go away the lot of ya. I'll let you know what I decide to do."

Josh put the phone down and called out for Donna. "They're discharging Sam after two. Did you clear my afternoon?"

"Yes, and I phoned Jessica and arranged for you to meet her there."

"Okay, I'm going to see Leo." Josh stood up but Donna blocked his way.

"You can't."

"Why?"

"He's meeting with a physical therapist that an agency has sent for Sam." Donna stood her ground even though Josh was trying to dummy past her.

"There's a nurse sitting outside Leo's office…waiting…nervously. Why didn't you tell me! I should go over there, just to say hi, introduce myself, you know, put her at ease."

"She's a physical therapist not a nurse. Please, Josh, don't." Donna made one last attempt to block his path. "You're going to flirt, and stand there with a big goofy grin on your face, 'Hi, I'm Josh Lyman, let me put you at ease' and it's going to be embarrassing for everyone. It's my duty to stop you from embarrassing yourself."

"I'm not going to embarrass myself! I'm going to be polite and professional and regale her with tales of the White House while she waits."

"Well I'm resigning from my post of embarrassment shield then."

"Accepted," Josh said as he pushed past and headed towards Leo office.

Margaret looked up from her work and offered the woman sitting opposite her a cup of coffee. She shook her head politely. Josh walked confidently into the outer office and leaned against the doorjamb. "Hi, I'm Josh Lyman, Deputy Chief of Staff."

She looked up and smiled. Josh wondered if leaning against the door presented quite the image he was hoping to achieve and so he walked towards her and stood by Margaret's desk.

"Has Leo got a minute?" Josh asked.

"No," Margaret answered without looking up.

Josh glared at Margaret's head. Presenting himself as a powerful politician wasn't going entirely to plan. He walked closer to the seated women.

"I'm just going to wait around here for a while. I've got this thing I need to discuss with Mr McGarry." a polite nod was his only response. "So this must be pretty nerve wracking, meeting with the Chief of Staff in the White House. The White House can be pretty daunting but you get used to it. I wasn't daunted by it-" Margaret snorted loudly but Josh ignored her and continued, "but I know some people who still get the shakes when they visit here. Anyway, I'll just hang around here and wait for Leo. I'm sorry if I hold up your meeting but, you know, affairs of state wait for no man."

Pleased with his speech, Josh perched on the edge of Margaret's desk and waited for the door to open. He could hear Leo thanking someone and as his voice came closer Josh stood up. Leo held the door open for the woman who walked out of his office in front of him.

"Josh, this is Judy Cook. She is the physical therapist who will be working with Sam."

Judy held her hand out and Josh shook it before turning back to the woman who was sitting down. "And this is?"

"Professor Caine, who is here to lecture me about our appalling environmental record and then take me to lunch."

Josh thought he could still salvage the situation. "Have you got a minute?"

"No! Josh, go to the hospital, pick up Sam and leave me alone." Josh decided the situation couldn't be salvaged and returned to his office.

Sam was sitting on his bed. His packed bag was beside him and he held his coat in his hands. He didn't want to go home. He had felt safe in the hospital. He had liked the routine. He would go home, recover and go back to work, he told himself. But he wouldn't tell anyone how he was feeling, he wouldn't break down. He had fought his captors by not showing them the pain they were inflicting and he wasn't going to start showing that pain now.

"Josh is on his way, honey. You ready to go home?" Jessica asked as she brought the wheelchair into the room.

"Sure am, Mom," Sam answered and he rose from the bed, sat in the chair and let his mother wheel him towards a future that he dreaded.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

The journey to Sam's apartment was mostly spent in silence. When they arrived Jessica helped Sam out of the car and he reluctantly took her hand and let her guide him up the steps to the front door. Josh walked behind with Sam's bag. When they got into the living room they all stood for a moment in awkward silence until Sam said that a drink would be nice. He sat on the sofa and Jessica brought out a throw and placed it over him.

"Mom, I'm out of hospital now, I don't need this," Sam complained but he didn't remove it.

"I better get back to the office," Josh said. He leaned over and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "It's great to see you home."

"It's great to be home," Sam lied and wondered how many other lies he would tell before things got back to normal.

Ron was becoming a frequent visitor to Toby's office and Toby could tell as he saw him that this visit was going to bring good news.

"The captured dealer has told us where we might find Incul and before you ask, yes, he's the one that broke Sam's hand. I don't hold out much luck that we'll find him. They don't stay hidden in the same place for long, but there's a chance. He's also told us of Mael's part in the abduction and so now we just need to go back to Mael and start getting some real answers."

"What is he getting in return?" Toby asked.

"I don't know and that's up to the Colombian authorities. I should think a decreased sentence and new identity."

Toby looked at Ron and allowed himself just to focus on the possibility of Incul being captured. He had heard Sam mumble his name in his sleep and he hoped that if Incul was caught it would be meaningful for Sam and help him to start looking forward.

"I'm going to see the President now but I wanted to tell you what I know. I'll keep you updated."

Toby thanked Ron and went next door to see how Jason was getting on. He was in such a good mood he even considered praising him if he liked what he had done.

Carol had to walk quickly to keep up with CJ who had stormed out of the briefing room and was making her way towards Leo's office. When she arrived Josh was telling Toby about the physical therapist but omitting the more embarrassing details of his encounter.

"This isn't going to go away," CJ announced as she entered the room.

"What, Josh's infatuation with nurses?" Toby asked.

"They're now asking why Josh and Toby stopped visiting Sam," she replied.

Toby's smile disappeared. "They were keeping a log of our visits?"

"A few reporters were there every day and between them they realised that you and Josh didn't visit Sam for a while after visiting every day."

Josh leant forward and shook his head. "Let them ask, there's nothing to it. Sam asked us not to visit and so we didn't. We've seen him since then, hell I took him home from hospital."

"Has his father said anything else?" Leo asked.

CJ shook her head. "It's not Sam's father that they're interested in anymore. The idea that the senior staff are divided is much more juicy."

Leo thought about it for a while and then made the one suggestion he could think of, "Leak the President's visit to Sam." He was surprised by the vehemence of opposition that the idea met with. CJ, Josh and Toby all chorused 'no'.

"That's not fair to Sam," Toby explained, "and anyway how does that help us? The President's visit was a complete disaster."

"I think we just let them think what they want." Josh announced. "There's no truth to it. Chances are they'll be outside Sam's place so they will see us visiting. Wait until Sam's more…together and see if he wants to make a statement but I don't think we should do anything now."

Leo looked at Toby and CJ who nodded their agreement and then moved on to the next item on the agenda.

Sam had been asleep since arriving home. He had fallen asleep on the sofa and his mother had woken him and told him to go to bed where he had been ever since. She looked at her watch and decided that if he slept any longer he would be awake all night and so she set about making a drink to take in to him. She heard the first cry and called out thinking Sam had called her. When there was no reply she went towards the bedroom. She didn't have to wait long before Sam called out again. She walked into the room and saw Sam writhing on the bed. His hand clenched tightly at the sheets and his injured hand lay at a right angle to his body. Jessica had found it hard to listen to Sam when his high fever had caused him to murmur and cry out but this was worse. The look of fear on her son's face and the anguished tone of his voice made her move immediately to his bedside and shake him.

"Wake up, Sam!" Sam pulled more tightly at the comforter but didn't open his eyes. "Sam! It's just a dream, wake up!"

Sam's eyes opened suddenly and he sat upright. Jessica kept her hands in place and watched as his expression changed from fear to confusion.

"Just a dream, Sam, that's all," she tried to pull Sam towards her but he shrugged away from her and lay back down. "Do you want to tell me what it was about?"

"I tried to stop him but-" Sam's voice faltered and he fought to regain his composure then turned away from his mother.

Jessica stayed on the side of the bed. She watched Sam's chest heave in and out as he struggled to control his breathing. After a while, when he had calmed down, she reached over and stroked his hair. "Why are you afraid of letting go, Sam? Hmm?" What are you holding onto? You're keeping it all inside, what's stopping you from letting it out?" She carried on stroking Sam's head until he fell asleep.

Nurse Judy Cook met with Josh's approval. He had made a point of making sure he was at Sam's place when she arrived. Donna had snorted when he had told her that he wanted to make sure she was suitable. He had ignored her, much as he had ignored Toby's warnings about making sure that he didn't frighten her off.

Judy arrived at Sam's with a large bag of physio equipment and introduced herself. "I've worked for the agency as a physio therapist and before that I worked privately as a nurse," she explained. "I'll do whatever you need, but I think I should tell you now that I don't do toenails." Sam laughed and knew immediately that he would like her.

Josh sat and watched Judy explain to Sam when she would call and what she would be doing. She was also making it very clear to Sam that he had to do his bit as well.

"I really think you're going to find that, apart from the physio, I'll be fine. I appreciate what Leo's doing but I don't feel comfortable with him paying for someone to look after me when I'm more than capable of doing it myself."

"Let's just see how we go from here. If you still feel like that in a week then I'll go back to Mr McGarry and we'll sort out a new arrangement." Judy smiled sweetly at Sam.

Josh recognised the smile, it was the sort of smile the nurses had given him and had usually been followed with the words 'this won't hurt a bit'. Josh liked Judy. She wasn't patronizing or domineering and he felt confident that her presence could only speed Sam's recovery and return to the White House.

"I'd better be making a move," Josh said as he stood and took his cup back to the kitchen.

Sam saw him to the door and didn't object when Josh suggested coming over later on.

He returned to the living room and found that Judy had already unpacked some of her equipment. "Might as well make a start, Sam, if you feel up to it?"

Sam nodded although he wasn't entirely sure what they were making a start on. He sat down at a small table that Josh had bought up from Judy's car and watched as she laid out a towel. She asked Sam a series of questions and filled in a number of forms before asking Sam to place his hand on the table.

His wrist was still in a cast and Sam tried to move his thumb like the doctor had told him but he had done little else. He rarely even looked at his hand and did his best to ignore his, at the moment, useless fingers.

"Sam, just put your right hand on here," Judy repeated.

Sam placed his hand on the table and waited for the next instruction. Judy reached over and gently moved his hand nearer to her. She didn't react when Sam suddenly pulled his hand out of her grasp. She could hear Sam's breathing was becoming more rapid but she pretended not to notice that either. After a few moments Sam put his hand back on the table. Judy gently examined each finger while she referred to some notes at the same time. When she felt Sam's hand shaking she decided to stop and carry on later. "Well, these notes match your hand, so we've made a good start," she said trying to lighten the mood. Sam quickly removed his hand from the table and tucked it protectively under his left arm.

"Don't you want to do anything?" he asked.

"I'll do some work on it later on. Would you feel happier if I set up my equipment in another room?"

"There's a spare room, then you can just leave it out all the time," Sam suggested and he led the way down the corridor. Judy commented on how perfect it was while she stood by Sam and listened carefully to his breathing. When she was happy that he was calmer, she suggested that he had a lie down while she set up in the spare room.

"When you've had a rest we'll try again," she suggested. Sam agreed and headed back to his room. He lay on his bed and studied his hand. He was embarrassed that just having someone look at and touch it had caused such a reaction. He ran his finger along the edge of the cast and forced himself to think about the memories of Incul grabbing his hand and slamming it down on the table. He looked at his three broken fingers and closed his eyes as the memory of the gun smashing against his fingers flooded his mind.

"Shall we try again?" Judy called through the door.

Sam had felt like he had only been back in his room for a few minutes but when he looked at the clock he was surprised to see that thirty minutes had passed since Judy had suggested he have a rest.

Judy didn't think he looked any better for it. He looked pale and seemed even more anxious than he had before. Sam followed her into the spare room and placed his hand on the table as he watched her pick up a small white container that was filled with liquid.

"This is paraffin wax. It will help to relax your muscles and make it easier for me to work on your hand. Just dip your hand into the bowl. You'll feel a warming sensation." Judy watched Sam carefully as he dipped his hand into the bowl and again placed it on the table. After a few moments Judy took hold of his hand and began to find out what movement he had in his fingers.

"Are you very right handed?" Judy asked. "Some people are surprised to find that they think of themselves as right handed but can do most things as well with their left. But then, my friend broke her hand and found that her left hand was completely useless."

"I didn't break it."

"I'm sorry?"

"They broke it. I didn't trip or catch it in a door, they held me down and-"

Sam stopped talking and looked away. Judy carried on her work in silence and ignored Sam's shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry," Sam said and he looked at Judy who shook her head.

"Don't be."

Sam willed the rising panic away and tried to clear his mind of images of Incul's gun butt rising in the air. He closed his eyes and tried to relax his breathing but when he opened them the sight of the wall behind Judy zooming towards him made him shut them tightly again.

"Sam?"

He opened his eyes. Judy was sitting directly in front of the corner of the room. Sam's eyes widened as the point where the two walls met zoomed towards her. He swayed, muttered a curse and leapt from his seat, knocking the bowl of liquid wax flying in his haste to leave the room.

Judy found him standing on the balcony his left hand holding tightly onto the rail. "Has this happened before, Sam?"

Sam didn't reply. He hoped Judy thought that this was just a panic attack. He didn't want to have to admit that he had thought the room was going to close in on him or that he had experienced it before and each attack had been worse but this was the first time he had felt compelled to flee the room. "It's just a panic attack, I had them in the hospital, I know what to do."

Judy rubbed Sam's back as he concentrated on calming down. Sam told himself that not being able to be in a room unless the door was open was probably a part of coping with having been locked away. He told himself that automatically finding the escape route of any room he went into was also probably just a way of coping with the transition of being back home. He told himself these things as his breathing slowed to a more normal rate and he ignored the part of his mind that told him that he was developing a phobia and it was getting worse. He ignored it because the part of his mind that was screaming at him that he was weak and that he shouldn't cry or show them that he was in pain, was trying to make itself heard over any logical thoughts that he was having. He felt Judy uncurl his hand from the rail and let her guide him back into the apartment.

"I think…you know what, I think I'll go and lie down again if you don't mind," Sam turned away from Judy and walked towards his bedroom.

"Mr Lyman is coming over in a while isn't he? Do you want me stay until he gets here?"

"Erm…no I don't think…yes, you can if like," Sam answered and walked into his room and shut the door behind him. Judy returned to the spare room and tried to remember if she knew any tips for getting paraffin wax out of carpets.

When Josh arrived, Sam was still in his room and Judy was on her hands and knees running an iron on a piece of brown paper over the carpet.

"Oh, hi, Mr Lyman."

Josh looked at her with a confused expression and laughed as he asked her what she was doing.

"We had a little accident with a bowl of paraffin wax, but-" Judy peeled the brown paper away and was relieved to find most of the wax had soaked into it, "luckily I remembered a way to get it out." She stood up and threw the paper into the trashcan.

"Where's Sam?" Josh asked as he took off his coat.

"He's having a rest. I worked on his hand and I think he found it a little stressful." She started to pack away her things and then put on her coat. "I left a timetable in the kitchen. I was going to call tomorrow afternoon but I think I'll come in the morning instead."

"Fine. Is everything okay?"

"Sam's a little tired. I looked in on him a couple of times and he's fine."

Josh nodded and followed Judy into the hallway. He opened the door for her and told her he would see her in the morning. He had seen the bed in the spare room was made up and he knew even before he went to see how Sam was that he wouldn't be going home tonight.

Josh waited a while before knocking on Sam's door. He made two cups of coffee and placed them on a tray. He put it down on the floor and knocked.

"Sam?" Josh waited and then knocked again. He heard Sam mumble something then clear his throat and call more clearly for him to come in.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Josh asked as he placed the tray on the bedside table.

Sam hoisted himself up the bed and wiped his hand over his face. "Has Judy gone?"

"Yeah, she said she would come in the morning."

Sam was lying on top of the covers. He shifted slightly down the bed and yawned loudly, "God, I'm tired."

"You're wearing odd socks," Josh pointed out.

Sam raised his feet, peered down at them and frowned. "Well you know what they say about odd socks."

"They don't say anything about odd socks." Josh picked up a cup and passed it to Sam.

"Don't they? I thought it was a sign of an incredible intellect."

"It's a sign that you should get dressed with the light on." Josh picked up his own cup and sat on the bed next to Sam. "How did it go with Judy?"

"Great!" Sam replied too quickly.

Josh knew it was a lie but he accepted the answer and changed the subject, "Toby threw a ball at your replacement's head today."

Sam turned to face Josh. "I'm going to enjoy this story aren't I."

Josh nodded and smiled. "He threw it at the wall but he kind of lost his balance and it went through the open door instead."

"And…"

"It hit…and the odds of this are phenomenal…it hit the wall of the Bullpen, bounced down to the floor at an angle, bounced back up and straight into your office where Jason-"

"Jason?" Sam interrupted.

"The guy who's standing in for you, anyway, he was standing in the doorway and it smacked him right on the forehead."

"Wow, the trajectories involved in that! I mean, if you tried to do that on purpose it would be impossible."

"Yeah, and I know you shouldn't laugh but the look on Jason's face…as if he doesn't have enough to cope with Toby shredding apart every word he writes." Josh put his feet up on the bed and chuckled at the memory, "And then the best bit was when Toby just casually peered around the doorjamb and said to Jason, 'And this is the pain I can inflict when I'm not even trying'!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh at the plight of his replacement and he imagined nobody wanted him to return to work more than Jason Charlston. As if Josh could read Sam's mind he turned to him, his face serious, and asked him when he was coming back to work. Both men knew that Josh was really asking if Sam was coming back to work.

The smile faded from Sam's face and he turned away. "I don't know. Margaret phoned and said that Leo would like to come and see me so I suppose that's what he wants to talk about. Maybe he's planning a changed role for me or something."

"That's not going to happen! Why do you think that?"

"Oh come on, Josh!"

"What?"

"Well, I'm not exactly at the top of my game right now!" Sam got off the bed. "The last time I saw Bartlet I shouted at him to go away. I can't concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes and let's not forget my totally useless fucking hand that I can't even hold a pen with!" Sam stood at the end of the bed, his face was red and the sound of his harsh breathing filled the room.

Josh stood up too and walked over to him. "You're talking as if we want you back because you're a good speechwriter! We want you back. We want our friend back and all the other stuff doesn't matter, we can help you deal with that, but we need you back with us, Sam. I'm worried- we're all worried, that you won't come back at all."

"I don't know, Josh," Sam sat down on the bed and seemed suddenly exhausted, "I wish I could tell you that I can't wait to get back to work…but I just don't know."

Josh sat down next to Sam and waited until he was looking at him."Just promise me that you won't make any rash decisions. Listen to what Leo has to say. Take your time…you'll be given as much as you need. Besides, I want to see what Toby will do to Jason next."

Josh was relieved when his last sentence produced a smile from Sam. Josh had kept silent at work about his suspicions that Sam might not want to return but now that they had been confirmed he knew he had to talk to Leo before his meeting with Sam. He knew he had to talk to Toby as well. During his rant, Sam had referred to the President as Bartlet. Josh remembered something Toby had told him about Sam doing that after he'd found out about the MS. It had been intentional then, calling the President by his surname showed how disappointed Sam was with the man behind the title. Josh knew it had been intentional this time also.

"Are you hungry?" Sam asked, interrupting Josh's thoughts and drawing a definite close to the discussion.

"Yeah, I could go a Chinese or something."

They ate and watched television and no matter how hard Josh tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that Sam wasn't going to come back to work and he couldn't suppress the constant fear that the Sam they had known wasn't going to come back to them at all.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

The apartment was tidy. Sam had spent the morning clearing up in readiness for Leo's visit. He sat on the sofa and pulled some specks of fluff from his sweater. He was surprised to find that he felt so nervous about Leo coming to see him. Although he suspected that Leo wanted to find out if he was coming back, he had no real idea what the visit was about and he told himself that it was probably just a social call and that Leo had no agenda apart from finding out how Sam was getting along. Sam brushed at his sweater again and as the buzzer sounded he quickly walked over to the spare room and shut the door, suddenly embarrassed by the paraphernalia of the physio therapy that cluttered the room.

Leo had dreaded this moment and had put it off for as long as he could. He feared that Sam blamed him. He knew it was a useless and irrational thought but it stayed with him and he knew he wouldn't be able to get rid of it until he faced Sam.

The door opened and Leo was surprised at the emotion he felt as he saw Sam for the first time since he was taken. He stepped into the apartment and pulled Sam into a hug, clapping him on the back a couple of times before letting go. "How're you doing, kid?"

"I'm good. I'm feeling a lot better now." Sam gestured to the sofa and then sat in the chair opposite. "I'm really grateful to you for organising Judy."

Leo waved a hand in the air dismissing Sam. "That was nothing, I was glad to be able to help. It's working out okay?"

"Yeah, she's great and I know I'm getting more therapy than I would through the hospital so I really appreciate that."

"Is there anything else you need?"

"No, my mom stays weekends and everyone drops by all the time. I'm hardly on my own at all." Sam sat back, aware that he was perching on the edge of the chair.

Leo reached into his pocket, "I bought you something." He handed him a small package. "Toby said you already had enough books to read so I thought you might appreciate this."

Sam unwrapped the present to reveal a narrow case. He opened it and looked at the fountain pen inside. "It's beautiful, Leo. Thank you."

"It's cocobolo wood, whatever that is. I know you can't use it yet but I thought it could be something to work towards when you are doing your physical therapy."

Sam stared at the pen and found that he didn't know what to say. Leo had handed it over as if it was something he had picked up on his way at the drugstore, but Sam knew the thought that had gone into and its meaning. "Thank you," was all he could think to say.

Leo had been planning how he was going to ask Sam about coming back to work. Somehow it had seemed a lot easier in the car on the way over. Suddenly Sam asked him if he wanted some coffee and Leo was pleased for the diversion so that he could plan another way into the conversation.

They had stayed in the kitchen after the coffee was made. Sam hadn't used the filter machine since he had been home and Leo tried to pretend he couldn't see Sam's left handed attempts at lifting the jug from its base. When he realised that Sam was finding it hard to pour the scalding liquid without help, Leo took the cups from the table over to the side and took over. He knew Sam wouldn't ask for help but he could tell he was relieved that he had offered.

They remained at the table as they drank, talking of trivial things. Eventually Leo placed the cup down and folded his arms. "So, have the doctors given you any idea of when you'll be okay to return to work?" He had decided the blunt approach would work best.

"Oh! Well…I don't know if I'm…I mean I really hadn't given it…I can't even," Sam sighed, "I don't know, Leo," he said, echoing what he had told Josh.

Do you blame me? That is what Leo wanted to ask Sam. Do you blame me for not persuading the President to negotiate? Do you think that we could have done more? Are you glad that your father said what he did? But instead he said, "That's understandable, Sam. Give it some thought and then let me know. There's no rush."

"I will, and I'll talk to you before I make any final decisions." Sam stood up and put the cups in the sink.

Leo went into the living room and picked up his coat. Sam thanked him again for the pen and saw him to the door.

"Make sure you talk to me before you make any final decisions!" Leo called back as he pulled on his coat and walked towards the elevator.

Sam picked up the pen and took it out of the case. He walked over to the bureau and pulled a piece of paper from the drawer. Holding the pen in his right hand he began to slowly make the shape of an S on the paper. There was no ink in the pen but Sam could see the mark left on the soft paper by the nib. He placed a dot after the letter and began the downward stroke of the letter N. The S was badly formed, and the N was illegible. Sam made four more attempts before cursing, placing the pen back in its box and putting it in the drawer.

CJ had read the same article three times and it hadn't got any better. She was hoping that maybe she had misread it or that if she kept reading it the letters would magically form a different order, but they hadn't. She lifted up the newspaper and went to Toby's office. He was sitting at his desk scanning the index of a book.

"I take it you haven't read this yet," CJ said knowing that if he had, he wouldn't be sitting calmly at his desk.

"Hold on," Toby muttered as he turned the pages of the book. He ran his finger down the page and then cried, "Got it!" He called for Bonnie as he slipped a piece of paper to mark his place. Bonnie appeared at the door and CJ sat down and waited for Toby to finish doing whatever was so important. He gave the book to Bonnie opening it up and showing her the page. "Copy this and email it to Sam and tell him that my hat remains uneaten."

"Uneaten?" Bonnie clarified.

"Yes…no, tell him this- say that I would offer him some of my hat to eat but he is probably full up on humble pie."

Bonnie left to complete her task and Toby turned to CJ, "I have this ongoing debate with Sam about in which speech Nixon had said that-" Toby stopped talking when he saw the expression on her face. "What?"

"Sam's father is quoted in the New York Times as saying…" CJ unfolded the paper and read from it, "My son is doing very well and has no immediate plans for the future although I hope that the Seaborn and Jackson headed paper may soon read, Seaborn, Jackson and Seaborn." She let the paper drop into her lap.

"He doesn't have the first idea what Sam is going to do. Sam doesn't have the first idea. He hasn't even been to visit since Sam got home. What does he hope to achieve by sprouting this…crap?"

"Well, he just got the firm's name in the New York Times so I suppose that's quite an achievement."

"You know what I think this is?" Toby asked without waiting for a reply, "This is Sam's father using what has happened to weasel his way back into his life."

"Whatever it is, it's making my life harder. I can't keep fielding questions about Sam returning to work. The first comment about us not helping Sam opened up a can but this one has revealed all the wiggly worms."

"That's very profound," Toby said. "No, really, you should write that down and include it in your memoirs."

"What are we going to do?"

"I know what we need, what would help," Toby looked at CJ and could see that she knew as well.

"We need Sam to make a statement," CJ said and she sunk back against the sofa. "I'm not asking him."

"Neither am I," Toby replied as CJ stood and walked towards the door. "Where are you going?"

"To tell Josh that he's wearing a fantastic suit today."

"He won't want to do it either." Toby scratched his beard. "You better ask him if he's been working out as well." CJ smiled and headed towards Josh's office.

Josh was sitting at his desk handing Donna files from a large pile on his desk, "That one…and that one…I need that one…take this…and this…might as well have this too and-"

"Josh, just give me the pile," Donna ordered impatiently.

"This isn't a pile. There's an order to the way that I've stacked these files and I can't just hand them over as if they're-" Josh stopped talking as Donna leant in front of him and grabbed the pile of files from his desk. "Or you can just do that…that works as well." He blew out a deep breath and said hey to CJ as she entered his office after Donna's exit.

"Hey, Josh. That's a nice suit you've got on there. Makes you look quite the man about Washington. Have you been going to the gym recently?"

Josh stood up and walked over to chalk-board. "What do you want, CJ?"

CJ gave up the pretence immediately and perched on Josh's desk. "Toby and I have been talking and we think Sam should make a statement."

Josh's hand stilled on the chalk board but he didn't turn around. "I thought we'd said that was a bad idea."

"We did."

"And it's a good idea now because…"

"Because Sam's father isn't going to go away. He's made another comment, this time about Sam not returning to the White House. The longer we go without a statement from Sam, the longer this story is going to build momentum and we both know there's more to it than a couple of soundbites and speculation."

Josh placed the chalk back on the top of the board and went back behind his desk. "He won't do it and I don't blame him."

"Josh-"

"No, hang on, why should he make a statement just because his father is making life difficult for us? He doesn't care about the administration at the moment, he doesn't care about spin or image or polling." Josh's voice was rising with each word but he was still calm enough to go over and shut the door before continuing. "The other day when we were talking about him coming back he gave me a list of reasons why he couldn't. Damn it, he said Bartlet when he referred to the President and it wasn't a slip of the tongue and don't tell me that doesn't mean anything because we both know that when Sam calls the President of the United States by his surname, it means something!"

CJ said nothing. She watched Josh brush his hand furiously over his hair, stand up and walk to the other side of the room and mutter a curse before she replied, "I hear everything you're saying and as Sam's friend I agree with you. Now tell me as Deputy Chief of Staff why a statement is a bad idea."

Josh closed his eyes and let his head drop to his chest. He put his hands on his hips and sighed deeply. "I'll go see him this morning."

CJ got up off the desk and walked over to him. She placed her hand on his chest and started to say something but Josh shook his head. "You better get ready for the briefing. Donna's got some notes about the forest fires for you." CJ removed her hand and moved it to Josh's shoulder patting it gently before leaving.

Josh pulled up outside Sam's apartment and switched off the engine. He unclipped his seatbelt but didn't get out of the car. He let his head fall against the headrest and closed his eyes. Toby had hidden from him, he had no doubt of that, and after CJ had left his office she had disappeared too. Josh decided he would do what they wanted because he knew on a political level they were right. He also knew that for Sam's sake, making a statement now would save a lot of aggravation later on. Those thoughts didn't help the tightening in his stomach that had started when he had left his office and were now becoming definite pangs of anxiety at the thought of what Sam's reaction might be.

Josh opened his eyes again and sighed. Glancing at his watch, he decided to phone Sam first in case he was still asleep. It was late morning but Josh knew that when Judy didn't come Sam sometimes stayed in bed until lunchtime. He had also stayed over enough times to know that Sam didn't always fall asleep until early in the morning. He started to enter Sam's name in his cell phone, pressed OK and waited for Sam to pickup. The phone rang and Josh looked up and out at the street ahead.

Sam's apartment was next to a small row of shops. He watched the people bustling along the sidewalk. A woman, who was walking almost sideways along it, caught his eye. She was trying to look behind her at something beyond Josh's view. He noticed that other people were glancing behind too as they walked towards his car. Josh craned his neck to try to see what they were looking at. He could see a small group huddled around a doorway. One man stepped into the group and then backed out again, his hands held up as if in surrender. Josh was still holding the phone to his ear but on realising that Sam wasn't going to answer he snapped it shut and tapped it absently on his chin. He knew that Sam hadn't been out of his apartment since he had been discharged from the hospital and he had shown no desire to go outside either.

Josh got out of the car and locked it. He entered Sam's cell number and walked towards the apartment. As he took the first step he glanced back at the scene further down the sidewalk. He could see that some of the group had dispersed but what he saw next made him drop the cell phone in his pocket and walk quickly towards the huddle of people.

He wasn't sure until he was closer; the snatch of dark hair, the black sweater and faded jeans had all seemed familiar on first glance. But now that he was closer he realised for sure that he hadn't been mistaken and it was Sam that the group was huddled around. He started to run.

He pushed past the onlookers and towards Sam who was frantically trying to pull open a door that had the word 'push' written clearly above the handle.

Josh placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and immediately regretted it as Sam flung around and pushed Josh flat against the wall. Now that someone was taking charge the onlookers started to disperse to a distance where they could be uninvolved but still stare curiously at what was happening.

"Sam!" The arm that Josh had placed on Sam was now pinned against the wall by Sam's left hand. His right hand was placed on Josh's chest. Josh didn't move. He knew that at the moment Sam wasn't even aware of whom Josh was.

"Sam," Josh repeated and this time Sam frowned at him, his forehead creased in confusion. "It's alright, calm down, it's okay. It's me…Josh…just try to calm down."

Sam's hand slipped from Josh's chest and he let go of his wrist leaving him with nothing to hold on to. He staggered slightly and Josh lowered him to the pavement.

Now that there was just a man sitting down on the sidewalk to look at, the crowd started to disperse.

"Do you think you can stand?" Josh asked. Sam shook his head so Josh stayed where he was, squatting beside him. The manager of the store came out and inspected the door handle for damage before asking Josh to remove his drunken friend from the front of his premises.

"He's not drunk you jackass, he's ill!" Josh shouted and at the sound of it, Sam pulled on Josh's arm and rose slowly to his feet.

"Get me out of here," he mumbled and Josh held him up and guided him back towards his apartment throwing a disdainful glance at the shopkeeper as he passed.

As they approached the steps, Sam tightened his grip and nodded his head towards Josh's car.

"What? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?" Josh asked, panicked.

"No, sit in car…for a minute…just a minute." Josh helped Sam around to the passenger's side and managed to open the door and keep Sam upright at the same time. He ran around to the driver's side and got in.

He leaned below Sam and adjusted the seat so that he was able to lie back. "Just try to relax," Josh urged him while he took in the paleness, shaking and rapid breathing of his friend.

Sam did as he was told and sunk into the seat. He closed his eyes and tried hard to slow his breathing. Josh sat sideways and stared at him. He knew Sam was trying to calm down but he didn't think he was having much success. "Do you need a doctor, Sam?" there was no reply. "Sam! Do you want me to call your doctor?"

Sam shook his head and rubbed a shaking hand across his forehead. He breathed in deeply twice, mumbled, "Oh shit," and fumbled with the door handle before managing to swing it open just in time. Josh didn't know whether to stay where he was or get out and go around to Sam. He settled for staying in his seat but leaned over and rubbed Sam's back until he stopped heaving. Sam collapsed back into the seat and pulled the door closed again. "Sorry, can we sit here…while longer?"

"Yeah, sure, do you need me to-" Josh was going to say do anything, but Sam shook his head and closed his eyes again. Josh didn't know what had happened. He guessed that Sam was having some sort of anxiety attack but he couldn't work out why. He leaned forward suddenly as a thought struck him, "Did somebody hurt you? Did something happen?"

Sam turned to Josh and looked at him for the fist time since he had flung him against the wall. "No…no…nothing like that. I had to get out of apartment but then couldn't cope with sidewalk, too much like before so I started…panic, I panicked…will have to live on a plane," Sam joked but Josh wasn't interested in jollying him along.

"I'm going to call your doctor. You don't look too good." He reached for his cell but Sam grabbed for his arm.

"No don't, no need, really…feel better."

"Yeah? Well I'd feel better if you stopped shaking and gasping and started speaking in full sentences."

Sam looked at Josh and rolled his eyes, the effect would have been greater if he hadn't immediately closed them and sunk back against the seat. Josh waited a few moments and then suggested going up to the apartment. He followed Sam up and waited while he searched fruitlessly for his keys.

"Good job I've got a spare set," Josh said as he reached past Sam and opened the door. Once inside, Sam walked over to the sofa and started to right the coffee table that lay on its side.

"Jesus, Sam, what happened?" Josh crouched down beside him and picked up the items that had fallen off the table.

"I told you, it was a panic attack, that's all," Sam had no intention of telling Josh about how he had fallen asleep on the sofa, woken from a nightmare and then ran panicked from his apartment and the walls that were closing in on him. He certainly wasn't going to tell him how he had made it outside only to discover that every person on the sidewalk had seemed a threat and he had suddenly found he had nowhere safe to go. Josh righted the table and placed the things back on it.

"Tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened!" Sam shouted and his fury took Josh by surprise. "Nothing happened," he repeated in a quieter voice. "Why is it so hard for you to accept that I had a panic attack? What do you think lying in an empty room waiting for a man to come and beat the shit out of you every night does to the nervous system?" Sam walked away into the kitchen. Josh followed him.

"Of course I accept that you had a panic attack. I just don't understand why you went outside and in a big enough state to leave without your keys." Josh waited for Sam to finish the water he was drinking and turn around. A part of him wanted to get Sam to open up and tell him more about what had happened to him but he knew that in the state Sam was in, it would probably do more harm than good.

"I panicked, Josh. Panic isn't an emotion that you usually associate with logical thought processes. Can we just drop it?"

"Yeah, sure." Josh studied Sam. He did look better than he had and he was clearly in no mood to discuss what had happened.

"Is Judy calling today?"

"Yeah, she's due at one."

"Okay, you should go sleep or at least lie down on the sofa. I better get back to the office." Josh followed Sam back into the living room. He had almost forgotten the true purpose of his visit until Sam stopped before opening the door and asked him why he had come.

"It was nothing, it can wait." Josh hugged him goodbye and tried to ignore how awkward it felt. He watched the door close and then walked towards the elevator. He knew Toby would be pissed, but Josh was just relieved that he hadn't been able to ask Sam about the statement.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

When Josh got back to the office and told Toby what had happened, Toby waited until he thought Judy would have gone and then went to see Sam. He returned an hour later and told CJ that Sam would email her a statement. Two days passed before CJ received it and when she did she went straight to Toby's office, picking up Josh on the way.

She stood by the door and watched Toby reading it. Josh sat on the edge of the sofa waiting for someone to tell him what was going on. Toby tapped his pen on the table as he read. It was a steady rhythm until he got to the end and then he struck it twice and threw it across the room. He scrubbed at his beard and let out a hollow laugh that made Josh stand up and shout, "Will one of you tell me what is going on?"

CJ ignored him and moved closer to the desk. "We can't put that out."

"You think?" Toby snapped. He turned to Josh and handed him the email. While Josh read, Toby summarised it for him. "Sam is grateful to the nurses, doctors, trauma team and staff at GW hospital. He's grateful to John Delaney. He's grateful to the police who escorted him and John to the hospital."

"What's wrong with that?" Josh asked, confused. "Oh," he skimmed the next page of the text, "he's grateful to everyone who helped him after he was found. If I keep reading this I'm not going to find any mention of the secret service, FBI or White House staff, am I?"

"No, but wait you haven't read the best bit yet. Sam says that he is-"

"Whoa, hold on, Toby, let me just read it for myself."

Toby snatched the paper from Josh, skimmed it and then gave it back, his finger indicating where Josh should read. He stared at CJ as Josh read silently.

"What is he thinking?" Josh asked incredulously and he read from the paper, "I will always view my time at the White House with pride and feel privileged to have been involved in the administration in which I served." Josh collapsed back against the sofa and threw the paper beside him. "Maybe he just confused his tenses…he hasn't written for a while, he's rusty…maybe he's just a little rusty."

"Is this going to be a long-term denial thing or are you going to be over it soon?" Toby asked.

"I'm pretty much over it," Josh said and sighed as he picked up Sam's email again, "He doesn't even say President Bartlet, he just calls it the administration. No…" Josh shook his head, "I'm going back into denial. This is probably just a rash decision that he's made…rashly. Anyway, Leo told Sam to let him know before he made any final decisions, and he would have told us if he'd heard anything."

The three of them looked up as Ginger tapped on the door. "Leo wants to see you all right away."

They walked to Leo's office quickly and in silence. The silence was broken by Leo's voice which, although quiet, was nonetheless commanding.

"Sam's resigned."

CJ, Toby and Josh stood in front of his desk. They didn't speak and so Leo continued, "I told him to talk to me before he made any decisions but he obviously thought he would skip the whole talking to me thing and just make his decision."

"You haven't accepted it though right?" Josh asked and at Toby's moan he explained, "I'm on the brink of denial, humour me."

"At the moment I don't have anything to accept. He hasn't put anything in writing he just phoned and-"

"He has," Toby cleared his throat and raised his voice, "he has put something in writing." He handed Leo Sam's email.

Leo read it and then sat down. "You're not going to release-"

"No!" CJ and Toby replied together.

"Sam's statement was meant to put an end to all the rumours not add weight to them," CJ added.

"Yeah, well, bin-it," Leo decided. "We asked him, he did it, we decided we don't need it after all. End of story."

"That's it? That's all we're going to do?" Toby could see Josh was about to rant at Leo and he decided to let him. "Sam as good as said that he is not coming back to work and we're not going to do anything about that?" He lowered his voice. "Not to mention the fact that he seems to have forgotten the name of the President, and don't tell me that doesn't mean anything, because we all know it does."

"Have you finished?" Leo asked as he leant forward placing his hands on the desk. "All I've said is that we won't issue the statement. The content of it we'll deal with later." He straightened and glanced at the closed door to the Oval Office. "Whatever Sam decides to do he's in no state to do anything about it yet, so we've got time on our side. The President knows nothing about this and it's going to stay that way." Leo moved on to a discussion about attempts being made to block a Bill and made it clear that for the moment the subject was closed.

Sam wasn't aware that CJ hadn't released the statement. He had been asked to write one and so that is what he had done. He hadn't intended on making any revelations. He hadn't left Ron out of his list of people to thank or neglected to name President Bartlet, intentionally. He had talked about the White House in the past tense on purpose though. As far as he was concerned the White House was in the past for him. He had tried to imagine himself standing in the Oval Office, listening to Bartlet and Leo but whenever he did he ended up picturing himself asking them why they didn't save him. He knew that Josh had told him that they wanted him back. Josh had been very clear about that. Sam didn't want them to want their friend back; he wanted them to need him back professionally. He wasn't kidnapped because of his stance on the drug problem in Colombia it was because he had been the administration's poster boy for it. Sam knew that part of the reason Leo had picked him to work on the statement was because of his relationship with the media. Now he found himself wondering if that was the only reason. The more Sam thought like this, the more examples he could find of how his role in the administration had been lessened over the past few months. Of course they didn't bother to rescue him, Sam reasoned, they obviously didn't view his loss to the administration as one worth bothering with.

Jessica looked at her watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. Most of the passengers she recognised from the plane had long since left the terminal. She suddenly remembered her cell phone was off and pulled it from her bag. She waited impatiently for the phone to beep at her and she quickly dialled the voicemail. She knew something was wrong. Sam would never arrange to meet her and then just not arrive. She told the female automated voice to get on with it and listened as the sound of Sam's shaky voice started. "Mom, sorry…I can't meet you. I've sent the cab without me…sorry…he said he'd make a sign with your name…I'm sorry, Mom…err if you can't see him phone me back."

Jessica hadn't been looking for a stranger holding a sign with her name on, she had been looking for Sam. She turned slowly around and immediately saw a man holding a coffee in one hand and a sign that had 'Jessica Mepham' scribbled on it. Since her divorce she had reverted to her maiden name but it still came as a surprise to see it in print. She walked over to him quickly and followed him to the cab.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking out for you. My son was supposed to be coming in the taxi to meet me."

"Yeah, that's what I thought but when I got to his place and buzzed for him he told me to come on alone."

"Well, no harm done, it's just a good job that I switched my cell phone on," Jessica answered light heartedly, but her thoughts were far from light hearted.

Sam closed his eyes and brought his knees closer to his chest. He had been sitting on the floor next to his bed for the last hour. He had been waiting for the cab to arrive when the fear had begun to take hold. He had tried to resist it, tried to conquer it but it had been too much.

He had left the apartment only once since being out of hospital and that had been a nightmare. He had put on his coat as if the action would make him go down to the cab when it arrived. It had only resulted in making him too hot. The longer he waited the more real the fear became until by the time the driver had buzzed for him, he was only capable of choking out that he should go on to the airport without him. He had thrown up before thinking to phone his mother. Then he had crawled onto his bed. He could only bear five minutes of it before sliding out and sitting huddled on the floor. He felt safe on the floor, with his back to the wall. He could see over the bed and be ready for them when they came.

Jessica had a key and she didn't even bother to ring before letting herself in.

"Sam, honey, what's wrong? Why didn't you meet me?" She dropped her bags in the hallway and peering into the empty kitchen and bathroom, headed straight for Sam's room. She didn't see him at first, huddled beside the bed. "Hi, Mom, sorry I didn't come to the airport."

The disparity between the normality of his words and his shaken appearance worried Jessica more than if he'd mumbled nonsense at her. She quickly walked over to his side, pulling the throw that he had pulled off the bed, out of the way. She felt his forehead and pulled his head back towards her when he drew away from her touch. He was pale and shaking but Jessica knew instinctively that Sam wasn't physically ill, "Calm down, Sam," she ordered. "Close your eyes and just try to calm down." She rubbed Sam's arm soothingly and tried not to feel hurt when he refused to accept any more attempts to comfort him than that. Eventually he stopped shaking and exhaustion replaced the tension that had held him rigid against the wall. He stared at the foot of the bed and Jessica didn't try to make him look at her. "Get some sleep. I'll wake you later and fix us something to eat."

Sam replied by slowly climbing back into bed. He pulled the covers over him and turned to face the wall. Jessica thought of him staring at the window in the hospital. His expression was the same and it made Jessica's stomach lurch to realise that all this time later, his sense of fear was too.

"It's not good news," Ron said as he followed Toby into his office. He shut the door behind him, muting the hum of noise from the Communications Bullpen.

"There was a raid last night in a place that the Colombian police have been watching for a while. It was the best chance we had of finding Incul."

"And by 'was the best chance', I take it they didn't find him," Toby said wearily.

"It was always going to be a long-shot," Ron reminded him.

"And this was from that man that was caught in the first raid?"

"Yes, he'll get his deal- he led them to another sizable haul. He was clear though that if Incul wasn't there, then he was as good as gone. The network in Colombia for hiding members of cartels is incredible. But we know who they are now and Incul and Javier remain priority targets."

Toby hung up the coat that he had been standing holding and perched on the edge of his desk. "It would have made a big difference to Sam if they'd been found."

"It would have made a big difference to me!" Ron answered.

Toby looked at Ron and wondered how deeply the failure to rescue Sam was affecting him. Ron recovered quickly from letting his professional demeanour slip. He straightened to his full height and told Toby he would keep him updated.

Sam woke to the smell of omelettes and the sound of muted voices. He rubbed at his face and rolled onto his back. He could hear his mother talking to a man. The smell of food was tempting him to get up and go to the kitchen but he didn't want Jessica to know he was awake in case the visitor was someone he didn't want to see. A door closed and the voices stopped. A few moments later the door to his room opened.

"Good, you're awake. I've made you an omelette," she walked over to the window and pulled the curtains open causing Sam to pull the covers back over his head. "Don't you want to know who I was just talking to?"

Sam stayed under the comforter. "Not really."

"It was Josh," she continued as if she hadn't heard him, "he wanted to talk to you. He seemed quite upset about something. I told him you were asleep. He's going to call again tonight."

"You can tell him I'm asleep then as well."

"I can't tell what you're saying. Get out from under there. I'm not having a conversation with your bedcover."

Sam reluctantly peeped out from beneath his cloth cocoon. "I said you can tell Josh I'm asleep tonight as well."

"I'll do no such thing! Your friends want to help you."

"I don't need any help."

"Poppycockle!" Jessica cried. Sam knew this as the word she used when others would use 'bullshit'.

"It's not poppycockle. I'm doing fine. I don't need-"

"I come here and find you quivering on the floor having some kind of panic attack, you can't leave the house, you spend half the night shouting the place down and the other half pacing around your bedroom, you're not eating, you look worse than you did when you had pneumonia and you refuse to talk to anyone about what has happened!" Jessica stared at Sam, daring him to look away or deny what she had said.

"You want me to talk about it? Fine, let's talk about it." He flung the bed covers aside and walked over to Jessica. "What do you want to talk about? Shall I tell you about how they beat me every night? Maybe you want to hear about how I forced myself to eat the crap they fed me and then threw it up and how every time I put food in my mouth now I can taste vomit? I could tell you what it felt like to have my hand broken, describe the pain or the sound of the gun breaking my bones. Or what it's like to have a stupid fucking hand that won't work, that I can't use anymore…I can't even write my fucking name!"

The only sound was of the radio playing quietly in the kitchen. Sam was breathing hard and staring at Jessica. She stared back at him. Shocked by his rage and sickened by his words, she could only stare at her son. The radio presenter joked with his guest and their laughter was incongruous with the disturbing atmosphere of the bedroom. Jessica forced herself to move towards Sam. She grabbed hold of his shoulders and ignored the fact that he refused to look at her. "Yes, that's exactly what I want to hear. You can shout it at me if you want just so long as you start talking about what happened. Start admitting that something has happened to you." She pulled him into a hug and didn't let go even though Sam's arms remained at his side.

When Josh came back later on, he didn't talk to Sam about his statement. He was instantly aware of the strained atmosphere and only stayed long enough to drink a cup of coffee. Jessica kept up a flow of chit-chat while Sam sat on the sofa ignoring her and Josh. While she was seeing Josh out, Sam got up and went back to bed.

Josh drove around for a while. He turned up the volume of the radio and opened the window. The cool air blew into the car and ruffled his hair. It didn't do anything to help clear his mind though. Every time Josh saw Sam he seemed to be getting more distant. He looked worse as well. He seemed to be thinner and paler. Josh also noticed that Sam had adopted the habit of hiding his hand. He would stand with it behind his back or shoved in his pocket. He was quieter too. Josh had accepted that Sam wasn't ready to talk about what had happened, but now he seemed reluctant to talk about anything.

Josh pulled up to the sidewalk and cut the engine. He leant forward and rested his arms on the steering wheel. He thought about what had happened to him after Rosslyn and tried to imagine how Sam must be feeling. He closed his eyes and tried to think of a way to help Sam but all he could see was the man with the directions and the drug being blown into Sam's face. He leant back and rubbed his hand over his face then took a deep breath as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. He walked slowly towards a low wall that ran parallel with the sidewalk and shifted positions until he was standing where he had been the day Sam was taken. He turned around and stared at the Colombian Embassy. It was dark now but it had been sunny then. It had been sunny when Sam had walked down the steps towards him and called his name. Josh remembered seeing him and waving in his direction, too involved with his discussion with Toby to pay any more attention.

Josh walked slowly towards the spot where Sam had been standing. He took slow, careful steps and stood as near to the spot as he could remember being when Toby had grabbed him and forced him to stand still. A couple walked towards him, the man said something and the woman burst into laughter. Josh looked up, startled by the noise which had dragged him back to the present. He waited until the sidewalk was once again deserted. He took a deep breath and unconsciously held it as he ran towards the place where Sam had been. As he ran he played out the sequence of events in his head; the other man grabbing Sam, the van pulling up, the guns being drawn. Once there, he breathed out a huge sigh. He had always thought that he had been too far away to help Sam; he had just needed to make sure. He turned and walked back to his car. He didn't look back.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Bartlet was sitting in semidarkness at his desk. Leo stood in the doorway watching him for a while before walking into the Oval Office.

"Clear Star shares jumped five points," he said as he walked over to the desk.

Bartlet looked at him over his glasses. "And who told you that would happen?"

"My sister's stockbroker?"

"Well, it was me actually but I'll let it go." He took off his glasses, nodded towards the sofa and went and sat on the chair opposite. "Why did Jason Chawton tell Charlie that he hoped to still be here when the next State of the Union is being written?"

Leo leaned forward and spent a few moments more than necessary getting comfortable. "That would probably be because he has heard that Sam might not be back by then."

"This is going to be one of those conversations where I discover that despite being pretty important around here, I haven't the first idea of what's actually going on."

Leo raised his eyes and smiled. "You know what's going on! I just sometimes keep things from you so that you can be protected from things that-"

"Spill it, Leo," Bartlet said and leant back in his chair.

Leo copied his action. He had a feeling he was going to be here for some time. "CJ and Toby are getting worried about some of the statements Sam's father has been making so they suggested that Sam write a statement that would let CJ quash the speculation that Sam's relationship with the administration isn't what it was."

"Leo, I said spill it, not beat it around the bush."

Leo looked at his friend and nodded. "Some of the press are getting very interested in the notion that Sam is bitter about what happened, angry at you, and that he agrees with his father that we didn't do enough to get him back."

"Go on," Bartlet's face showed no emotion.

"CJ got a statement from Sam. In it, Sam talks about his time at the White House in the past tense. He lists people he wants to thank and the secret service and anyone from the administration are conspicuous by their absence."

Bartlet shook his head. "So apart from the fact that Sam doesn't want to work here anymore and is full of anger, blame and bitterness- I really haven't missed much at all." He stood up and walked towards the outer office. "Charlie, if CJ or Toby is still here, I want a copy of Sam's statement. If they've already left you better get them back here, because I want it now."

Bartlet walked back into the room and sat down opposite Leo. "How are you handling this?"

"Sam's not ready to work anywhere yet. We don't need to worry about that for a while. CJ's dealing with the press. Apart from that there's not a lot I can do. I went to see him the other day."

"You didn't mention that. How was he?" Jed sat forward, his gaze fixed on Leo.

"He looked bad. I didn't know what to expect. I mean, I knew the bruises would all be gone but I didn't expect him to look so ill. That's why I'm not too worried about his unofficial resignation. He doesn't look anywhere near being able to go back to work."

Bartlet run a hand over his face and sighed.

"He kept trying to hide his hand like he was embarrassed of it," Leo said quietly.

"Sometimes I wonder what the hell-" Leo never found out what the hell Bartlet wondered as Charlie chose that moment to enter the room and hand him a copy of Sam's statement. Leo told his friend that he would be next door if he needed him. Bartlet sat back down at his desk and put his glasses back on. He read the statement twice before putting it into a drawer. He walked next door to Leo's office and stood, hands in pockets, in the doorway.

"You get him back, Leo. You do whatever it takes. We are not going to sit back and watch someone, who refused to allow others to destroy him, destroy himself."

Leo nodded and answered that he intended on doing just that, but he waited until his friend had left before he slumped wearily into his chair and set about thinking exactly how he was going to do it.

Almost two months had passed since Sam had been back at home. The bruises were gone, his ribs were healed and he had made a good recovery from the pneumonia. His reluctance to let anyone see him using his hand had increased though and everyone had commented on how he had developed the habit of folding his arms so that his right hand was tucked beneath his left. The door to the spare room where Judy worked was always closed and if anyone did stay over they would find that Sam had covered up her equipment with a throw.

Judy's notes on Sam told of a client who found physical therapy difficult. She described how working on his hand made Sam anxious. She noted her concerns that he was not following her advice and was not fully dedicated to carrying out the exercises between sessions that were vital if he was to gain full value from her work with him.

Sam rarely left the apartment but somehow managed to cope with his increasing attacks of claustrophobia and with his fear of what would happen if he went outside. He spent an increasing amount of time sitting on his balcony; still safe in his home but able to look beyond its four walls.

He was sitting like that when Toby and Josh called early one evening. The sound of the buzzer pulling Sam reluctantly away from his position on the floor where he had been sitting watching the car lights slowly becoming discernible as the last light of the day, faded.

"We bring pizza," Josh said as he barged through the door and past Sam.

"And beer," Toby added as he followed Josh into the kitchen.

"Well don't mind me, I just live here," Sam said, although he didn't think the way he existed anymore could be called living.

He entered the kitchen and watched Josh place slices of pizza on three plates while Toby set about opening the bottles of beer.

Sam started to clear away the mess that Josh had already managed to create but quickly stopped when he realised how noticeable the shaking of his right hand was. He moved to the doorway and folded his arms, tucking his right hand out of view, unaware of Toby's slight frown at the action. He followed his two uninvited guests into the living room and took a plate that was handed to him by Josh.

"What've you been doing today?" Josh asked through a mouthful of pizza.

Sam looked at the string of cheese that dangled from the slice Josh was holding and put his own slice back on his plate.

"Not much. A friend called this morning."

"Did you go out?" Toby asked hopefully.

"It was raining," Sam explained.

"Did you lose your umbrella?"

"I didn't get a glass for myself," Sam mumbled as he got up and effectively ended the conversation. He threw the empty pizza boxes away and opened the window. He picked up a glass and filled it with water which he gulped down and refilled before returning to the other room.

Josh and Toby kept their gaze on the TV as Sam sat down and put his plate back on his lap. The living room was filled with the smell of pizza and Sam swallowed hard as he picked up a slice and held it over the plate.

"_Pizza delivery! Get it while it's hot. Don't puke it back up this time you filthy fuck!"_

Sam shuddered at the memory of Incul's words. Most of the food he had been given had been cold and unrecognisable. The pizza had been brought in by Incul and put on the floor by Sam's bed. It had been the only food he had been given that was still warm.

Sam brought the slice to his mouth and took a bite. Josh had finished his already and was busy trying to persuade Toby let let him have the last slice as Toby needed to watch his waistline.

Sam picked at a string of cheese that was escaping over the side of his plate. He remembered reading once about the sense of smell being the mind's strongest trigger for memories. He knew it was true now as the smell of the pizza brought back images of Incul with a vividness that made Sam almost feel the damp of the room he had been held in.

He could see Incul's foot. He had been beaten and his head was on the floor and he could see Incul's foot. It had loomed towards him and faded as the pain flared through his stomach. When he had looked again the foot was stepping backwards away from him. It stepped onto the half finished pizza that was next to Sam's bed. Sam had heard a curse and then closed his eyes as the foot came closer again. He had prepared himself for the blow but it never came. Incul continued to curse as he wiped the pizza off his shoe and onto Sam. Each swipe of his foot across Sam's chest sent waves of pain from his broken ribs. Sam was aware he was being pulled upwards but the pain he was in made the pain of being dragged up by his hair almost unnoticeable. He had been struck once and purposefully thrown face down into the remnants of the pizza.

The plate clattered to the floor as Sam sprung up. Toby spun around at the noise but Sam was already headed to the bathroom. Josh asked Toby what was going on and he shrugged and followed Sam.

"Sam?" Toby knocked on the bathroom door. The sound of Sam retching was his only reply. Toby waited silently until finally he heard the sound of the toilet being flushed. "You want a glass of water?" he called through the door.

"Yeah, yeah please." Sam emerged a few moments later and took the glass from Toby. "Sorry about that…I can't stomach…they gave me pizza…I just felt sick, sorry."

"They gave you pizza," Josh said, "and it made you throw up having to eat it again."

"Josh!" Toby warned but Josh carried on.

"No, I'm sick of this hopping around, running away when anyone mentions what happened. We were eating pizza, Sam, and then you went running off to throw up. Now either you're ill in which case we should call a doctor, or you're upset in which case you should talk to us. You should talk to us, Sam, because you can't keep on pretending that nothing is wrong."

Toby closed his eyes. They had planned to come here tonight and talk to Sam about his statement. Toby had a feeling that Sam wouldn't be inclined to talk about anything now. Toby looked at Josh whose gaze was locked with Sam's. Josh was daring Sam to back down, daring him to tell him that nothing was wrong. Josh, Toby decided, looked very volatile.

Sam put the glass down and folded his arms tightly around his waist. "I don't know what you want me to say. I don't know what you expect of me."

"I don't expect anything but I can't keep standing by and watching you go deeper and deeper into whatever hellhole you seem intent on burrowing into."

Sam looked away from Josh and walked back to his seat. He picked the pizza up from the floor and placed it back on his plate. "They gave me pizza."

Josh and Toby stayed silent.

"They brought a meal in every night. I had to eat with my fingers. I remember being glad when it was pizza as I could eat it with my fingers and not feel…" Sam's voice trailed off. Toby didn't care if he didn't say how he felt then as long as he told them how he felt now.

"I was sick a lot. I tried to eat what they gave me but it was hard. I ate some of the pizza. Incul came in and stepped in what was left which made him mad. It didn't take much to make Incul mad," Sam turned away from them and walked around the back of the sofa. "He wiped it on me then beat me again and when he was done he…" Sam rested his hands on the back of the sofa. He didn't want to tell them anymore. He had sworn that he wouldn't tell them anything. It was bad enough that he knew how weak he had been without describing it to his friends. "Can we open a window or something? The smell's making me want to throw again."

Toby forced himself to move from where he had stood transfixed and pulled the curtains and opened the window. A gush of fresh air and sounds from the street below filled the room. Toby took a deep breath before turning around and walking back over to Sam. "Think you can manage some crackers or something?" At Sam's nod he walked quickly to the kitchen signalling to Josh to follow him.

They worked silently. Both had spent enough time at Sam's to know their way around the kitchen. By the time they returned to the living room, Sam was laying on the sofa watching a movie. "Is this the second or the third one?" he asked Josh.

"Who's in it?" Josh said as he handed Sam a plate of dry, odourless food. Sam listed the actors he recognised. "It's the second one, we should watch, it has that cool car chase where they go under all the trucks."

Toby sipped at his beer, listening to the continuous screech of car brakes and watching Sam. He knew Sam's statement and resignation wouldn't be mentioned tonight but at least Sam had started to talk about his ordeal. It was a ray of hope, a very small one but Toby clutched at it nonetheless.

_Sam looked around and was surprised to find he felt comfortable being back in the White House. He entered the Communications Bullpen and walked towards his office but stopped when he saw a figure sitting outside it. He was sitting on a chair that was tipped against the wall, whistling in-between swigging from the bottle that he held. Sam felt a wave of fear pass through him as he recognised the man; it was Incul. _

_Sam was sure Incul hadn't seen him. He seemed more intent on keeping his balance on his chair as he lifted the bottle to his lips again. Sam dived into Toby's office and shut the door quickly behind him. Toby didn't look up at the sound of the intrusion._

"_Toby!" Sam walked over to his desk and placed his hands on it. "Toby! You have to call Ron. Incul is outside."_

_Without looking at Sam, Toby reached for the phone and dialled. Sam stood in disbelief as Toby started to reel off an order for pizza._

"_Toby, listen to me! Incul is outside, you have to help me."_

"_He wants to speak to you," Toby said and passed the phone to Sam._

_Sam stared dumbfounded at Toby who held the phone out to him without looking up. He put the receiver to his ear and listened._

"_Okay Sam, we understand. You hold on son, you hear me. It will be over soon. I mean it, Sam, we're not giving up so don't you dare either."_

"_Leo?" Sam looked at Toby but he had turned to his filing cabinet. "Leo, please, please help me!"_

_Toby wasn't looking and Leo wasn't listening. _

_Sam backed away from the door when he heard the scrape of the chair outside as Incul righted it and stood up. Sam spun around. Toby was still standing with his back to him even though Incul was now standing in the doorway. _

"_God, please, someone help me!" Sam said but it was useless; no one was paying any attention. The door slammed closed and Incul walked towards him. The blows came in quick succession._

"_Toby! Stop them, help me!" _

_Toby returned to his desk reading the file he was carrying as he walked. He sat down and carried on with his writing. "Just ignore him, Sam and you'll be fine. Don't make a noise. Don't cry out and for God's sake don't beg!" Toby scratched at his forehead and turned the page of his pad. "Don't let them see your fear. Don't let them win. That's all you have to do. If you do that we'll come and get you."_

_Sam could taste blood. Incul was laughing as he continued to pelt Sam with his hands and feet. _

_Behind Incul, Sam could see a figure enter the room. The figure walked towards Incul and patted him on the back. He knelt down beside Sam, his face was obscured by shadows but as he leant closer to Sam a ray of sunlight revealed his identity._

"_You shouldn't have begged," Sam heard the President whisper as his face disappeared above him._

Sam struggled upwards but his arms were being held firmly, "Sam! Calm down, it's alright, you're alright. You were having a nightmare but it's okay now."

Sam could hear Toby's voice and feel his hands holding onto him. "I didn't…I didn't…I…" Toby told Sam to shush but he continued. "I didn't beg, I didn't, when they beat me I didn't make a sound…didn't make a sound…that's how I fought them."

Toby stared at Sam and tried to make sense of what he was saying. Sam's eyes were wide and he was staring back at Toby, desperately trying to make him understand. He grabbed hold of Toby's arms. Toby could feel Sam's left hand tighten as his frustration mounted. He could feel Sam's right hand too and tried not to think about the pathetic hold that his injured hand had.

"Every time he beat me I didn't make a sound," Sam's left hand squeezed Toby's arm even more tightly. "But in the cellar…it was too much…I couldn't take it…Mael wouldn't let go…it wouldn't stop…wouldn't…and I couldn't be quiet anymore."

"Shush, just lie back, Sam, try to relax."

"When they broke my hand …I begged…pleaded… I begged them not to…begged them…I didn't mean to…tried to keep quiet…tried…I tried to…"

Sam's hands fell away from Toby who lowered him gently down again. Sam continued to mumble and so Toby told him that he knew, that it was okay, that he knew he had tried. He gave Sam a few moments to get himself together, waiting for his breathing to slow and his eyes to stop darting around the room.

Josh was still asleep. Toby had been about to leave Sam's place, leaving Josh in an undignified sprawl on the sofa, when he had heard the moans coming from Sam's room. He had sat on the bed and watched Sam writhing in distress before shaking him awake.

Sam was lying with his hands over his face now. Toby knew he would be embarrassed and already regretting what he had said but he also knew that this was a good opportunity to get Sam to open up to him.

"Unaccustomed as I am to speaking like a daytime TV host, do you want to talk about it?" Toby asked, pleased when his words caused Sam to remove his hands and look at him. He shook his head and started to turn away but Toby's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Talk to me. It's just you and me."

Slowly Sam turned onto his back again and mumbled something.

"I can't hear you," Toby said.

"I said what do you want me to say?"

"I don't care what you say just talk to me…just…talk."

Sam pushed himself up the bed and sighed deeply. "I know you're worried, everyone's worried, but there's not much I can do about that. I'm doing the best I can. I don't know what else I can do."

"Do you really think anyone is falling for this?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I've just sat and listened to you pleading with me to help you-"

"I was having a nightmare-"

"Shut up and listen. I've just sat and listened to that and now I'm meant to listen to you telling me you're doing the best you can when you can't even leave your own apartment without having to be rescued from the sidewalk."

"How did you…he shouldn't have told you that."

"Yes he should! How can we help you if we don't know what's going on? You're not doing the best you can, Sam, because you're not doing anything at all."

Sam sat up and grabbed hold of Toby's arm. "Everything frightens me," he whispered and the candid admission made Toby's stomach lurch.

"I know, but we can help," Toby replied not even believing the words himself.

"I don't want them to win. They're still winning because I'm still afraid."

"Then stop being afraid. Get back in the game. Stop being a prisoner in your own home." Toby placed his hand on top of Sam's and squeezed it. Sam lay back down and closed his eyes but Toby stayed until he was sure he was asleep. He collected his coat from where he had dropped it and walked back into the living room. Josh was still fast asleep, his arms folded across his chest and one hand clutching the remote control. Toby threw a blanket over him and silently left the apartment.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

"Try it again but don't grip so hard with your thumb." Judy leant away from the table and watched closely as Sam made a second attempt at writing his name. Judy had witnessed no more panic attacks, instead Sam went about any work on his hand in a detached manner and Judy had become used to the silence that descended as soon as her sessions begun.

She looked at the initials Sam had printed and was pleased with his improving control and coordination. "That's a lot better, Sam. Can you see the improvement from last week?"

Sam nodded and continued carefully writing the letters o, r and n. It looked to him like something his third grade teacher would have thrown in the trashcan but at least he was able to keep hold of the pen now.

"You're pressing too hard with your thumb. Let your other fingers do the work." Sam nodded again and finished a shaky down stroke of the last letter.

"You did it, Sam. A couple of weeks ago you couldn't even hold a pen! Let's leave it there for today."

Sam was up and out of the chair and making them coffee before Judy had got the lid back on the pen. She packed away her equipment and covered it with the cloth that she always found over it when she arrived.

"Doughnuts!" Judy cried, looking at Sam's tray as he entered the room.

Sam sat down next to her and handed her a cup. Normally after his sessions he became more animated but today he seemed to be as aloof as he had been earlier.

"Next week we'll do some work on the keyboard if you like. See how dexterous your fingers are after the workout they'll get from the exercises you'll be doing when I'm not here."

Sam concentrated on stirring his coffee but Judy caught the smile that flashed across his face. "I do my exercises."

"Well, I'll soon know if you haven't," Judy said as she placed her doughnut quickly over her plate to catch the drip of jam. "You'll be going back to work soon?" she asked. In the short time he had known her Sam was amazed at how adept she was at knowing exactly what was on his mind.

"They want me to…my father wants me to work with him, so…"

"So?"

"So, I suppose I'm lucky to have more than one option."

"Why is not going back to the White House an option? I would have thought you'd be eager to get back to work."

Sam just shrugged so Judy carried on. "Are you worried about how you'll cope until your hand is fully healed? You needn't be, there are lots of things that can be done to help until you have regained full use of it. Mr McGarry has organised this therapy for you so I don't see why he wouldn't be accommodating once you're back at work. Or is there another reason why you don't want to return?"

Sam turned to Judy and gave her a look that suggested there was no chance he was going to carry on the conversation. "You've got jam on your chin," he said and then smiled.

"I haven't got jam on my chin and you're changing the subject. If I had jam on my chin I'd feel it. I won medals in college for eating the most doughnuts without losing a drop of jam."

Sam looked at her with mock horror. "All this time I thought you were the ultimate professional and it turns out you're just a big old doughnut freak."

They sat in companionable silence, Sam painfully aware of any jam that leaked from his doughnut and Judy showing him the technique that had made her Doughnut Queen two years running.

After Judy left, Sam quickly set about tidying the apartment and getting things ready for his guest. He decided to change into a smarter pair of pants and at the last moment replaced his T-shirt with a sweater. He had only just pulled it over his head and straightened his hair when the buzzer heralded the arrival of his second visitor. He hurried over to the door and grabbed hold of the box of cigars that were thrust into his hands as the man walked by him and into the room.

"Get that coffee going, son, I've only been able to get my hands on decaf all morning."

Sam walked obediently into the kitchen and listened to his father's recount of his morning as he made them both a large cup of black coffee.

"Your mother still spending the weekends here?" he asked as Sam handed him a cup and sat down opposite him.

"Yeah, I think she's staying home this weekend, Aunt Jenny's coming to visit."

Scott Seaborn rolled his eyes at the mention of his sister-in-law. "Shall I stay around then? I've got to go back early Sunday but we could do something Saturday?"

"Yeah, great." Sam took a sip of his coffee and placed the cup back on the table. "Why are you asking me to work for you now?"

"I'm asking you to be a partner, Sam, and why not now? Now is the perfect time as far as I can see."

"When I left Gage Whitney you told me what a mistake I was making and you asked me to work with you instead. You didn't want me giving up everything based on a hunch of Josh's. Remember that night you came to New York just after I'd split up with Lisa?"

"I remember," Scott said trying to remember what else he had said that night.

"I was packing my things and Josh was coming to collect me. Just before he came you asked me to work for you again. You said I would be better off crawling back to Gage Whitney than running around after some pompous presidential hopeful." Sam glanced at his father and he nodded slowly. He didn't remember but it sounded like something he would have said.

"You said that it was the last time you would ask me, that if I chose Bartlet over you, you wouldn't ask me again."

"If you say so but things are different now-"

"So, I've been thinking," Sam carried on, "Why are you asking me again? Why didn't you ask me after the MS news broke? You knew I was thinking about leaving, why didn't you ask me then? You know what conclusion I came to?" Scott shook his head, "It's not that you want me to work with you so much as you don't want me to work with them. You don't want me to go back to the White House."

Scott took a swig of his coffee and then stood up. He walked over to the window and put his hands in his pockets. "You really think I asked you so that I could get one over on the Bartlet administration?"

"I think you're angry and you're trying to defend me. You know how the media works and you made comments that you knew would get attention and cause problems for them."

Scott sighed deeply before he turned away from the window and faced Sam. "I meant every word and if you think I'm going to apologise for trying to-"

"I don't want you to apologise, Dad, come on, that isn't what I'm saying."

Scott walked back over to Sam and sat down next to him. "You're going back then?"

"I wasn't going to. I was going to come and work with you. But…I think I have to. Everything is…" Sam rubbed at his face, "I don't know how to put it. Everything is different now…for me…things that I thought I knew and understood are all altered…I'm altered…this isn't making much sense is it?"

"Not too much, no," Scott agreed.

"I think," Sam paused and lowered his head, "I think that if I don't go back I might never be able to get back to the person I was before this happened."

"You won't find the person you were in that building, unless you want to go back to being the sort of person who is valued so little that his-"

"Stop it! Stop doing that! Do you really think that I don't know all of that? You're not helping me you know, going on and on about how they could have saved me and how betrayed I should be feeling!"

Scott jumped to his feet and followed Sam who had spun away from him and walked into the kitchen.

"Why in God's name are you going back there if that's how you feel?"

"Because I'm too fucking frightened to go anywhere else!" Sam shouted back so loudly that his father was stunned into silence and watched him warily from the doorway before slowly walking towards him.

Scott reached out and placed a hand on Sam's arm. Sam didn't move so Scott pulled him around to face him, for an awkward moment, Sam thought he was going to pull him into a hug.

Scott kept his hand on Sam's arm and shook him slightly as he spoke. "That's not the most convincing argument you could make, son."

"It will have to do because it's all I have." This time Scott did pull Sam forward and wrapped his arms around him. Sam tried to remember the last time his father had hugged him and couldn't. He smelt of cigars and aftershave and although Sam couldn't remember many embraces he realised he could remember the smell of them. The phone rang in the living room but Sam let it ring, content to bury himself in scents long forgotten and a comfort that was unexpected.

Jason had cleared his belongings from Sam's office and happily cleared himself from Toby's vicinity. Toby and Josh had taken him for a drink the night before and Toby, after a few whiskeys, had said some complimentary things about Jason's work. Jason was under no illusions though, he wasn't Sam and that was who Toby wanted sitting in the office next to him. Jason didn't mind, he had learnt more in the few weeks he had spent with Toby than he would in years with anyone else. As much as Toby had been impossible to work for, Jason wouldn't have swapped the experience for anything.

The following morning CJ made her way to Sam's office. Now that Jason was gone it looked like Sam had never been away. Toby had made sure of that. CJ walked towards the desk and placed a bouquet of flowers on it.

"I thought we said no fuss," Josh said as leant against the doorjamb.

"We did, but flowers aren't fuss they're…welcoming."

"We decided that we weren't going to do the welcome thing. We decided that Sam would be uncomfortable with that."

"Yeah, you're right." CJ walked forwards and picked up the vase.

"They're nice flowers though," Josh said and CJ walked towards the desk again and placed them back on it.

"But then one bunch of flowers looks like we have done the welcome thing but only half-heartedly."

CJ started to walk towards the desk again but stopped. "Toby!"

Toby came out of his office and stood next to Josh. "What's wrong?"

"Flowers- too much of the welcome thing or making the lack of a welcome thing really obvious?" CJ asked as she cocked her head and stared at the flowers on the desk.

"We talked about this, we decided. I don't think…" Toby's voice trailed off as he saw Ginger and Bonnie walking towards him, "I don't think we told enough people about the not having a welcome thing," Toby said as Ginger and Bonnie pushed past him laden down with fruit baskets, cards and bouquets.

"Wow…this is…wow," Josh muttered as he started to read the labels attached to the various gifts. "We've missed you, with love from the catering team. Good to have you back, Tom and Mike. Glad to hear you're back at work, your friends at Capital Beat." Josh stuck his hands in his pockets and watched Ginger arranging the gifts around the room. "I don't think I got anything like this when I came ba-"

CJ smacked Josh on the back of his head. "Please don't start, Joshua!"

They stayed for a while and helped Ginger and Bonnie try to make it so that Sam would a least be able to get to his desk. Toby left them to it but returned after a while with Sam's laptop which he had borrowed from Sam the night before on the pretence of adding some files that he would need. CJ returned to her office but pushed her vase of flowers to the centre of Sam's desk first. Josh sat opposite Toby and watched him work. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just making some adjustments." Toby picked up a scrap of paper before returning to the keyboard. "A friend of mine told me how you can adapt keyboards. You can stop buttons that are brushed against or hit repeatedly showing up on the screen."

"Does Sam know?" Josh asked as he walked behind Toby to get a better view.

"No and there's no reason for him to. It'll just mean he'll make fewer errors until his hand is better."

"Yeah, whatever, so long as 'disabled functions now active' doesn't pop up when he logs on."

"Aren't you meant to be annoying someone else right now?" Toby asked without looking up.

Josh looked at his watch. "Damn, yeah," he said as he left the office.

Toby smiled when Josh had gone, he usually saved his smiles for when people had gone. He tapped away at the keys and thought about what else he could do to make Sam's life easier. When Judy had visited Toby accompanied by an occupational therapist she had suggested getting a left-handed mouse but Toby agreed with Josh that anything too obvious would be sure to upset Sam. He carried on making hidden adjustments and tried not to think about what else could upset Sam when he returned to work.

Toby and Josh had never talked to Sam about his statement and he had not mentioned it to them. He hadn't told them about his father's visit either. His mother had become increasingly worried about him but had already taken all the time she could off work. She had met with Toby and over lunch asked him to keep an eye on Sam and keep in touch with her without Sam knowing. Toby felt uncomfortable reporting on Sam's well-being behind his back but he knew that Sam was unwilling to ask for help and so decided that it was up to them to look out for him.

And so, two weeks after Toby's meeting with Jessica, and one day after his own with his father, Sam decided to return to work. He had received an invitation from the President to afternoon tea and knew the purpose of it was to find out if he had decided to return to work and so he had phoned Leo immediately and told him that he was eager to return. It was a lie. Sam wasn't eager for anything except for the fear that had become his constant companion to dissipate and a hope to return to the man he had once been to be realised.

The plan was for Sam to visit on the Friday afternoon and start back at work on the following Monday. Sam signed the book at the security desk for the first time since he had left to go to the Colombian Embassy, and made his way to his office. He had managed to combat his fear of going outside by making sure that when he did he got a cab to pick him up straight outside his door and drop him off exactly outside wherever he was going.

He was greeted by Toby who had asked to be told as soon as Sam arrived. They walked along the corridors in silence.

"How do you feel?" Toby asked, awkwardly.

"Well, Jerry, I feel a bit anxious," Sam replied.

"I sound like Jerry Springer?" Toby asked as they rounded a corner.

"Yeah, just a little."

"Well here's some advice that you won't find on a TV pseudo psychiatrist's show; when you're in the Oval Office don't even look like you're wondering where the President's tea set came from."

"Oh, it has an intriguing and lengthy tale to it."

"It does," Toby confirmed.

As they entered the Communications Bullpen an awkward silence descended before Ginger broke it by rushing over to Sam and pulling him into a warm embrace.

"Welcome back, Sam," she said as Sam returned her hug with his left arm.

Toby halted any further shows of affection by asking in a loud voice if the hugs could continue after Sam had met with the President. Ginger made sure Sam made time to look at all the gifts and flowers in his office though. Sam patted her back before following Toby.

The nausea that he had felt on waking had been increasing and as Sam neared the office he was sure that the possibility of throwing up on the President's shoes was becoming more real by the second. "Wait!" he said to Toby and placed his hand on the wall as he took a few deep breaths.

"Okay?" Toby asked as he glanced at his watch.

"Yeah, it's just, the last time I saw him it wasn't…it didn't go well."

"Him?" Toby asked.

Sam winced as he realised his mistake, "The President, Toby, you know who I meant."

Toby gave Sam a few more moments to collect himself. "Ready?"

Sam nodded and took a deep breath before walking into the outer office and greeting Charlie.

"Hey man, it's good to see you. Really good." Sam accepted Charlie's brief hug not seeing Toby's frown as Sam kept his right arm by his side.

Charlie told them that the President was ready and they entered the Oval Office to find Josh and CJ already seated with looks of horrified ennui on their faces that made Toby smile despite the sound of the President's earnest voice as he described how the fine bone china tea set had made it's way safely across three continents and to the White House.

"Sam!" Josh cried beaming with relief at the sight of him and an end to the President's narrative.

Josh needn't have worried. On seeing him, Bartlet immediately stopped talking, all tales of tea sets forgotten as he looked up at Sam. "I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see you in this room again," he said as he walked towards him. He held out his right hand to Sam but quickly swapped when he saw Sam hold out his left to him. Bartlet clasped Sam's hand in both of his and smiled warmly. Sam wanted to sit down and silently prayed that would be the President's next move.

"Come and sit down. Wait until you see this tea set." The President sat back down and Sam and Toby took a seat opposite Josh and CJ. Bartlet poured a cup of tea for Toby and Sam and picked up his own cup before leaning back in his chair. "So, has your office been left in a fit state by your line of replacements?"

Sam looked at the President sipping his drink and wondered if he'd had a cup of tea after he told Leo not to cancel the Colombian Dinner. "I haven't really had time to take a proper look, sir. I'm sure it's fine."

Sam had put his cup back on the table. His hands were shaking and that made his weakened right hand next to useless.

"Leo arranged for me to telephone John Delaney." Sam's head whipped up at the name of the man who had rescued him from the roadside. "I'm going to invite him to visit the White House and I'll extend the invitation to his mother."

Sam swallowed hard and reached for his cup to distract attention away from his heart which he was certain everyone could see pumping, it was beating so fast.

"Toby thinks that smoking cigars in libraries should be added to the UN's declaration of human rights," Josh said, changing the subject. Sam took the opportunity to take a sip of his tea. It was too hot and the cup rattled on the saucer as he brought it back carefully to his lap.

"Depending on the section you're in," Toby added. "I'm not proposing that the junior library has a smoking area."

"They could have those clay pipes that blow bubbles," Josh suggested.

Another awkward silence descended in which the rattling of Sam's cup became even more obvious.

"Am I right that you're not coming back full time, Sam?"

"I'll be taking Thursday afternoons for physio and I'm going to work from home on Fridays." The cup was balanced on his leg and Sam knew he should use his right hand to steady it but the thought of everyone looking at it stopped him.

"That's good," Bartlet nodded and smiled at Sam. Sam looked away and down at his cup. It would have cooled down a little and his throat was very dry. He couldn't lift the cup with his left hand without risking the saucer falling off his lap. He realised he had no choice but to use his right hand to lift the cup. Maybe he could down the tea in one go and then put the stupid thing back on the table. He flexed his fingers and then lifted his hand and took hold of the cup carefully.

If his hand wasn't still shaking it probably wouldn't have happened. If he hadn't caught CJ looking at it as he lifted the cup it probably would have been okay. Sam could feel himself losing control of his hand. He felt it shake and watched the tea slurp dangerously close to the edge. He tried to right it but instead of increasing his hold on the cup his hand weakened completely and the hot liquid flowed over Sam's hand and arm as the cup fell out of his grasp and rolled towards the President.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

The cup landed at the President's feet and then rolled away again until it hit the leg of the coffee table. The gentle chink that heralded the end of its journey seemed to propel everyone into action. Sam leapt from his seat and tried to catch the tea that was dribbling down his arm. Toby stood and fumbled in his pocket for a tissue. The President stood as well and Sam turned to him. "I'm sorry…I don't know what happened…I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter, Sam. It's fine, don't worry about it." Bartlet walked towards Sam who was unaware of the handkerchief that Toby was waving at him.

"Toby, are you trying to surrender?" Bartlet quipped as he took the cloth from him and handed it to Sam. "You need to let someone get a look at that," he said as he reached out and took hold of Sam's right hand.

"Don't!" Sam shouted pulling his hand out of Bartlet's grasp and cradling it against his chest.

Toby took a step towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder but Sam flinched away from him as well. He took a step backwards and found himself stumbling into the President. Bartlet instinctively held onto Sam and steadied him but all Sam knew was that he was being grabbed, his hand hurt and he was being grabbed. He lurched forward, pushed past Toby and rushed from the room.

"I better…" Toby pointed to the door.

"Go, go," Bartlet said before sitting heavily in his chair. "Well that went nearly as well as when I visited him in hospital." CJ and Josh glanced at each other and continued to sit in silence. After a few more moments of staring at the carpet, Bartlet rose from his chair and returned to his desk. "Thank you," he said and looked down at his work.

"Thank you, Mr President," Josh and CJ replied and quickly left the room.

Toby entered the Communications Bullpen and nodded thankfully at Ginger as she pointed towards the men's room. He pushed the door open slowly, wary of startling Sam again. Sam wasn't even aware Toby had entered the room. He was standing holding onto the sink and staring at his reflection in the mirror.

"Sam?" Toby walked slowly towards him. "Sam, what happened back there?" Even as the words left his mouth Toby knew what a stupid thing it was to say. Sam had freaked, that is what had happened and by the way he was gazing at his reflection it was pretty clear to Toby that he still was.

Toby knew that touching Sam was going to alarm him but that was preferable to the unresponsive man that stood before him now. He reached forward and gently placed his hand on Sam's arm. He felt Sam tense and saw his grip on the sink tighten. "Please, leave me alone."

Toby looked at Sam's right hand which was red and slightly blistered. "You need to run some water on your hand."

Toby knew touching Sam's hand was out of the question so he reached in front of him and turned the faucet on instead. The cold water began to fill the sink and the noise of it took Sam's attention away from the mirror. He looked down and watched as the water rose towards the rim of the basin. When the sink was nearly full Toby placed his hand on Sam's back with the intention of encouraging him to release his hands from their death-grip on the porcelain.

Sam sprung away from the sink and stumbled back towards the wall. "You don't need to…I'm awake…please don't, I'll do what you say."

Toby held his arms out and walked away from Sam. "Okay, I won't, that's fine. Don't worry." He continued to walk backwards until he reached the door.

"Ginger!" She came hurrying over to Toby. Everyone knew that something was going on and Toby was annoyed to see more members of staff gathered in the Bullpen than usual. "Make sure no one goes in there." She hurried over to the door of the men's room while Toby headed for Josh's office only stopping to shout that if anyone who didn't work in the Bullpen was here when he returned he would see to it that today was their last day in the White House.

Josh was on the phone when Toby burst into his office. "I'll call you back," he said as he saw the expression on Toby's face.

"He's in the men's room but I don't think he knows where he is. I think he thinks he's back in that house."

"Oh shit," Josh muttered as he rushed past Toby. When he got to the door of the men's room and saw Ginger's anxious face he stopped and paused before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

"Why have we got these again?" Bartlet shouted at Charlie as he stormed out of the Oval Office and hurled a pile of folders on his desk.

"We've been using these for some time, Mr President. I didn't think it was a problem."

"Well it is a problem. I like the other ones, the ones that open out flat. Using these…it's like Mission Impossible every time I want to read a file."

"I'll change them, sir," Charlie said as he stood and picked up the files. He knew the President's anger was nothing to do with the type of storage file he was using but he busied himself anyway checking they were empty before throwing them in the trash and going to the stock room to find the ones that the President was insisting on using.

When he returned to the Oval with an armful of files he found Bartlet sitting on the sofa staring into space. He put the files on the desk and walked over to him.

"I've put them on your desk. I'll replace the other ones as we use them if that's okay?"

"Hmm? Oh…yeah…okay, that's fine," Bartlet started to reach down for the cup that still lay on the floor.

"I've got it," Charlie said as he bent down and picked it up. He picked up a napkin and started to mop up the spot of tea that remained on the carpet.

"Leave it, I'll do it," the President ordered. "It's my mess."

Josh was standing in the middle of the men's room unsure of what to do. Sam was sitting against the wall with his arms wrapped around his knees.

"Sam, look at me." Josh took a few tentative steps towards him. "Look at me!"

Sam flinched slightly when Josh raised his voice but he opened his eyes and looked up. "Go away, Josh."

Despite the sentiment of Sam's words, Josh visibly relaxed as he realised that he recognised him. He had feared that Sam would be in the throes of a flashback that he would be unable to coax him out of. He walked towards him and joined him on the floor.

"Sorry buddy, not going to happen." Josh sat close to Sam and he could feel his body shaking.

"When Toby…when he…it was like I was there again…like I was st-still…"

"I know," Josh said and he turned to face Sam, "I know," he repeated.

"Y-yeah, of course…you…yeah," Sam placed his elbows on his knees and covered his face.

"What happened back there, with the President, don't worry about it. He understands. We all do."

"Don't know what happened, just sl-slipped from my hand."

"Yeah, well, it was you, the Oval Office and fine bone china- the odds were pretty high to begin with."

Josh's attempt at humour resulted in Sam removing his hands from his face. "Will you take me home?"

"Yeah, what now?"

"No, when I can stand up."

"Okay." Josh leant back against the wall and waited. He didn't think Sam would be ready anytime soon, he was still shaking and his breathing was as erratic as it had been when Josh had first sat down. Josh closed his eyes and listened to Sam's short gasps in and shuddering breaths out. The space between the two was filled by the steady sound of the tap dripping into the sink of cold water. A phone rang in the Bullpen but after Toby's warning there was no one there to answer it.

Sam stretched his legs out and folded his arms across his chest.

"Try to calm down, Sam," Josh said quietly.

"I am," Sam answered but his tense breathing and tightly closed eyes made a mockery of his words.

There were thirty-two tiles on the ceiling of the men's room. Josh had guessed and then counted. He had guessed the exact number and felt quite proud of himself but didn't think Sam would be too interested in his accurate roof-tile estimates at the moment.

He was looking around for something else to count when Sam suddenly pushed himself further against the wall.

"What? What's wrong?" Josh asked sitting upright and turning towards him.

"Need to get out," Sam explained as he used Josh's shoulder to push himself up.

"Are you going to throw? Because if you're going throw I think we're better off in here."

"Outside, I need to get outside!" Sam shouted.

"Okay, okay." Josh helped Sam upright and held onto his arm.

Ginger, who was still standing outside was sent flying into Toby by the door as it was flung open. "Where are you going?" Toby called as he disentangled himself from Ginger.

"Outside," Josh called over his shoulder. Sam seemed to have lost his bearings and so let Josh lead him to the nearest exit. Once outside he pulled away from him and used a nearby pillar for support instead.

Josh stood against another pillar and folded his arms watching Sam who, now that he was outside, was quickly calming down. "What was that all about?" Josh asked.

"I was having a problem with the walls…they were…" Sam held his arms out in front of his face and brought them whooshing towards him to demonstrate to Josh what the walls were doing.

Josh repeated the action. "Wow, that's something you don't want walls to do."

"Well, yeah," Sam agreed still breathing heavily.

"How long has that been going on?"

"Since he was in the hospital," Toby answered as he appeared and walked towards them. "You wanted the door to your room open in the hospital for the same reason you went flying out of your apartment and had to be rescued from the sidewalk the other week- you're claustrophobic aren't you, Sam?"

Sam looked away from Toby but he and Josh could see his nod. There was a moment's silence then Sam swung around the pillar he was holding onto and faced them. "Guess I came back to work too soon. I think what I'll do is just go. Maybe someone could thank the President for the tea which was…a real delight."

Josh looked on as Sam started to walk away from them. He turned to Toby who shrugged in reply.

"Sam, do you still need a lift?" Josh called after him.

Sam stopped and walked back towards them. "Yeah, Josh, I need a lift, and I need you to drop me off right outside my apartment because as well as claustrophobia I also seem to have developed a fear of sidewalks. Did you know about that, Toby?"

Toby stared at Sam. His tone had been angry but his face and demeanour were anything but. Sam looked emotionally drained and physically wrecked. For a moment Toby considered pushing him like he had after the nightmare but he knew that if Sam didn't get out of the White House this instant the chances of him coming back on Monday were non-existent.

"No, I didn't know that. Let Josh take you home."

Sam looked like he was going to say something but then changed his mind and followed Josh back into the building.

The journey back was spent in silence. Sam rested his head against the window and stared out of it until they reached his apartment. Josh drove around the block twice, waiting until the parking spot directly opposite the entrance was free. Sam looked up at the sidewalk in the wing-mirror to make sure that the sidewalk was clear before getting out of the car and walked quickly up the steps to the main entrance.

He left the door to his apartment open knowing Josh would be coming up and starting making them some coffee.

"You need to see someone," Josh announced as he entered the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"I am," Sam said as he added an extra scoop of coffee to the filter.

"That's great! Why didn't you say something?"

"I just did," Sam stared at the drips of coffee as they slowly filled the jug. "The hospital arranged for someone to come here once a week."

"That's…that's great, Sam." Josh stood up and picked up two cups from the side. "Is it helping?"

"Yeah, it's working wonders. That's why I ran out of the Oval Office and spent the next half hour cowering in the men's room."

"It's not an instant fix. You have to give it time." The coffee jug was full so Josh reached past Sam and removed it from the machine.

Sam turned and walked into his bedroom to take off his suit leaving Josh to make the coffee and take it through to the living room. When Josh came in he found Sam sitting on the sofa examining his hand. He stopped the action immediately on seeing him.

"You should put something on that." Josh placed the cups on the table and sat. "Do you have some cream or something?"

"What for the coffee?" Sam asked.

"No, not for the…Jesus, Sam! Do you have some cream for the blisters on your hand?"

"Oh, no I don't." Sam reached for his cup, thankful that, unlike in the Oval Office, his hands weren't shaking.

Josh studied Sam carefully. He was pale and looked exhausted but Josh's patience had run out and he decided that tonight he would finally get Sam to open up. He took a long gulp of coffee and then put the cup down. "Was that a flashback earlier, is that what happened?"

Sam glanced at Josh and then reached for the remote control. He knew Josh wanted to talk but that was the last thing Sam wanted to do. He muted the sound and flicked through the channels. "I just felt ill, I just panicked. It was nothing."

Sam jumped at the sound of Josh's hand slamming down on the coffee table. "I am getting so sick of listening to this crap! I'm the guy who rescued you from the sidewalk the other day, the one who held your hand all night when you were so delirious you didn't know where you were, the one who just spent thirty minutes sitting on the floor of the men's room with you!" Sam stood up but so did Josh, who was ready to head him off if he tried to escape, "but none of this is helping you because every time something happens you dismiss it or pretend you're fine." Josh started pacing. "I try to get you to talk and you won't. Do you think that I don't know what you're going through? Do you think that I don't know what it's like to have someone try to kill you, to survive that, only to become a victim all over again because you can't get rid of the fear or of the memories? Do you think I don't know?"

Josh had stopped pacing and Sam looked up at him. "No, I know you do."

"Then let me help you, Sam." Josh walked slowly towards him. "Talk to me, tell me what happened, what's happening now."

Sam edged along the wall towards the kitchen. "No, I don't…I'm not…I can't."

"Yes you can, just sit down and talk to me."

"I'm not ready to, I need to get things straight-"

"Bullshit! You need to get things out, not churning around inside, making you even more confused."

Sam made a final move for the kitchen but Josh placed his hand on his chest and stopped him. Sam stumbled but Josh's hold was firm and he held him upright. Sam stared at him, a glare of quiet defiance but Josh's uncompromising stare negated it.

Sam removed Josh's hand and walked slowly over to the drinks cabinet. He poured two large bourbons and returned to the sofa. Josh joined him and watched as Sam downed his drink, fetched the bottle and brought it back over to the coffee table.

"When I woke up the first time I thought I was hung over," Sam said as he stared at the glass in his hands. "It felt like that but I couldn't remember anything and then I saw that I wasn't at home. I could smell the damp and hear their voices. I knew I wasn't at home."

It was getting dark outside and as the light faded Sam's voice grew stronger. Josh thought about closing the curtains, switching on a lamp but now that he had got Sam to talk he wasn't going to do anything that might make him stop.

"…Mael and Incul came in. They wanted me awake so they took me over to the sink…

Josh didn't interrupt. He listened, he drank and he felt increasingly sick.

"…he came every night. I waited for him because I was too scared to be asleep when he came. It wasn't part of their plan, he was just an evil son of a bitch…"

It was dark outside. A street lamp was flickering. Its light crept over the windowsill and into the room. The other side of the room was illuminated by the light from the kitchen, in the middle, in the darkness, sat Sam.

"…I thought he'd cancel the Dinner or postpone it or something. If I'd been in the White House I'd have argued for that. I knew he wouldn't do it but I still couldn't quite believe it…I remember thinking he'd killed me…with that one decision he'd as good as killed me…"

Josh sat with his hands clasped and his arms resting on his knees. Sam had started to jump between the jumbled images in his head and Josh couldn't keep up with them. Now that Sam had started to talk he found that he couldn't stop.

"…I knew then, I knew they would kill me, I heard them…why didn't he stop it? Why didn't he tell Leo to make a deal with them? Why didn't he try to save me?"

Sam was quiet for a while and Josh filled both of their glasses. He hadn't said a word since Sam had started to speak.

"…I've tried, I keep trying, it's getting better, stronger. I can write quite a bit before it starts hurting…Judy says it will get better but…I can't…when I try to write, I can't…Judy thinks it will be okay…"

Josh ran his hand over his face and subconsciously covered his ear. It wasn't the sound of Sam crying that he was trying to block out but the words that the sobs were interspersed with.

"…I'm sorry…sorry…I can't…I'm frightened…all…the time…I can't see how…can't remember not being…I can't see how…get back…I can't get back to…before when…wasn't I afraid…"

Sam had stopped talking and Josh had moved over to the sofa beside him. Slowly, he placed his arm around Sam's shoulder. The sobs became less frequent until they faded and Sam sighed deeply. Josh still hadn't spoken. He had often tried to imagine what had happened to Sam but none of his scenarios were anywhere near as awful as the truth. He also had failed to realise just how angry and betrayed Sam felt. Josh felt more unable to help Sam now than he had before. He felt Sam slide away from him and down onto the sofa. Josh moved so that Sam could raise his legs.

"You'll be better off in bed," Josh suggested but Sam shook his head. He wiped at his face and closed his eyes. Josh went into the bedroom and came back with a blanket which he placed over him. He crouched down and looked at his friend's face. He was fast asleep. Josh whispered a goodnight to Sam before standing up on creaking knees and making his way to the spare room.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Josh woke to two sounds that were unfamiliar; muted traffic and the ticking of a clock. It only took him a few moments to remember he had stayed at Sam's and a few moments more to remember why. He pulled the comforter back over his exposed feet and snuggled further underneath it. He sat up again and switched on the lamp. He was thirsty but too comfortable to get out of bed. He stayed like this for a while longer before deciding that his thirst was going to stop him getting back to sleep and reluctantly pulled the covers back.

He tiptoed carefully to the door, mindful of Sam asleep on the sofa in the living room. When he pulled the door, a shaft of light entered the bedroom. He peered around the doorjamb. Sam wasn't asleep on the sofa he was sitting at his bureau in the corner of the room. Josh stepped back but continued to stare. He could see Sam's right side. He couldn't see his face and what he could make out was cast in shadows, but Josh could see that Sam was writing. The white paper was illuminated in the arc of lamplight and Josh could see Sam's hand clearly. Josh knew that he should go back to bed closing the door softly behind him but he didn't. He couldn't seem to tear himself away from the sight of Sam sitting at his desk, blanket pulled around his shoulders and pen poised in his hand.

Josh froze as Sam sighed and muttered a curse. The sound of paper being torn from the pad and screwed into a ball was amplified by the quiet of the night. Sam ran his hand over the clean sheet and picked up the pen again. Josh bit his lip as he saw, for the first time, Sam's slow and measured movements. As much as he hated the analogy, Josh couldn't help but be reminded of a child working earnestly to produce his neatest handwriting.

Suddenly Sam stopped writing and the paper was ripped from the pad and sent in the same direction as the previous page. Josh followed its route to the floor and saw that several other sheets had met a similar fate. Sam ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath. He picked up the pen and again smoothed over the clean sheet. He started to write but it only took a few strokes of the pen before the sheet was ripped, screwed up and thrown away. The pen followed its path and clattered against the wall accompanied by a hissed curse of Sam's. He leant over and placed his head in his hands.

Josh couldn't go over to him and let Sam know he had been watching. Instead he stayed where he was and silently willed Sam to pick up the pen and try again. 'Come on, Sam, pick it up, pick up the damn pen,' Josh urged and he almost wondered if he had said it out loud as Sam sat up and reached down to retrieve the pen from the floor. He stared at it for a while and then threw it into the waste-bin. Josh had to duck behind the door as he had sighed so loudly. When he looked back again, Sam was taking another pen out of a box. He placed an ink cartridge in it, undeterred by the two occasions that he dropped the pen, he screwed the two parts together.

He held it up and turned it slowly in the lamplight. He placed one hand on the side of the sheet and slowly began to write. This time Sam didn't stop, he didn't rip the page out and he didn't curse, he just kept writing.

Josh decided he could do without the water and went back to bed.

When he woke he fumbled for his cell phone lifting it to his ear before realising that the shrill tone was the sound of the alarm he had set, not the ringtone. He ran a hand through unruly hair before getting up and walking into the living room. He could hear the shower running and so set about pouring a coffee and toasting the bread that Sam had left out for him.

The lamp in the living room was still on and it was the only light apart from a crack of sunshine that squinted through the curtains. Josh wandered around the room, coffee cup in hand, before stopping in front of a collection of photographs. He smiled at the picture of him and Sam shaking hands at the entrance to the West Wing. It had been taken by the official photographer who had spent a day taking pictures of the new staff as they moved into the building. Josh looked for the picture of the President and Sam that had been taken on the same day but it was missing from the collection. He took a swig of coffee and placed his cup on the bureau sending a pencil rolling off it in the process. He bent down to pick it up from where it had landed by the waste bin which was overflowing with the paper Sam had thrown away last night. Josh put the pencil back on the desk and stood indecisively before bending down and pulling out one of the screwed up balls of paper.

The sheet was covered with Sam's name. Josh looked at the uneven script and understood why so many pieces of paper had landed in the bin. He was about to shove it back in when the name on another piece of paper caught his eye: Laurie. He glanced back at the bathroom and hearing the water still running, pulled the paper from the bin.

Josh and Sam had never talked about Laurie after the photo had appeared in the papers. Josh assumed that Sam had stopped seeing her and didn't want to know if they still kept in touch. He had heard that Laurie was working at a Boston law firm and often wondered if the few weekend breaks Sam had taken in Boston were with her. Sam had never volunteered the information and Josh had never asked.

Josh didn't plan to read the whole letter but once he had started he found that he couldn't stop. Sam started by apologising for his handwriting and then went on to let Laurie know that he would like to take her up on her offer to come and stay with her during the trial. Josh only read a few lines of the next paragraph before scrunching the paper back up and shoving it back in the trash. In it, Sam told Laurie that Judy had told him that his middle two fingers were likely to be deformed.

Josh picked up his cup and went back to the sofa. The door to the shower opened and Sam emerged wrapped in a robe. He called a 'hey' to Josh before walking into his bedroom. By the time he came out Josh was on his second cup of coffee. "Sam, I read some of your letter to Laurie, I saw it by accident and when I saw her name…I always wondered if you kept seeing her…and when I saw her name…so I read it, a few lines then I stopped but I read enough to know, I read what you said about…I read enough," Josh finished lamely. He had been expecting Sam to react angrily but was surprised at the cause of it.

"You looked at my handwriting!" Sam shouted and walked towards the bin. "I can't believe you! It's trash, Josh," Sam said as he pushed the paper further into the bin. "That's why I threw it away."

"I know. I'm sorry." Josh ignored the pang of jealousy that he felt at the thought that Sam didn't mind Laurie seeing his handwriting. He stood up and walked over to him. "It's just that I saw you last night. I was going to get some water and I saw you sitting here, scribbling away. I was just curious as to what you were writing I guess."

Sam sighed and lowered his head. He raised his eyes though and looked at Josh and shook his head. "You rummaged in my trash?"

"Yeah."

"How low is that?"

"It's pretty low," Josh agreed.

Sam smiled and shook his head again. "Make me a coffee."

Josh returned a short while later and placed the cups in front of the sofa where Sam now sat.

Sam took a long sip and cradled the cup in his lap. "You said you'd read enough, what did you read?"

"Just that you were staying with Laurie during the trial, and…I just saw a line about your hand but I stopped reading there."

"After the photo, I didn't speak to Laurie for a while-"

"Sam, really, you don't need to tell me this."

Sam continued as if Josh hadn't spoken. "She moved to Boston a few months later and then we got in touch again. She's working at Hanley Bates and doing great. When she found out that the trial is going to be in Boston she offered straight away for me to stay with her."

The trial had been another subject that Sam wouldn't talk about. They all knew Mael's trial was coming up and that Sam was meeting with lawyers from the White House to prepare for it but whenever anyone had broached the subject with Sam he would tell them the preparation was going well and then change the subject. "I know that Ron wanted me holed up in some hotel surrounded by agents but we compromised and they are going to camp out at Laurie's instead. It's stupid, it's not like a member of the FARC is going to try and stop me testifying."

"Yeah, well, you'll excuse us if we don't want to take that chance," Josh replied.

Sam shrugged, the thought that they'd taken a chance with his life once before crossed his mind but he ignored it.

"What about the other thing?" Josh asked tentatively.

"There's not much to tell. My two middle fingers haven't healed well and will always be slightly deformed." Sam was unaware of how he slipped his hand beneath his leg as he talked.

"You'll get your strength back in them though right?"

"Judy says I will. I just need to keep working at it."

Sam had been so candid with Josh last night and this morning that Josh decided he might as well see how far he could push. "I'm not going into work this weekend. Do you want to do anything? Maybe we could check out that new Italian or something?"

Sam started to shake his head and was about to come up with a string of excuses for why he couldn't go but Josh stopped him in mid-sentence. "Sam, the trial is only a few weeks away. If you're seriously thinking about going to stay in Boston, I think you should try and get so that you can actually go outside of your apartment."

"What are you talking about? I can go outside of my apartment!"

"Yeah, sure, Sam." Josh stood up and walked towards the bathroom. "Sometimes I think I should have left you that day I found you on the sidewalk. You'd still be there now probably, pulling at the door with the big 'push' sign on it."

"I was having a panic attack I hardly think I-" Sam stopped talking when he heard the bathroom door shutting and resigned himself to shopping, a meal and a trip outside his apartment with Josh.

Josh emerged from the spare room to find Sam switching on his cell phone ready to take with him.

"Hey, nice phone, gizmo man. When did you get that?"

Sam shoved the phone into his pocket. "A couple of weeks ago."

"I thought you already had the latest model. I bet you let some persistent salesman talk you into upgrading?" Josh said as he grabbed his keys and wallet.

"I didn't get my old one back," Sam explained.

Josh stopped looking for his coat and turned towards Sam. "Shit, man, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

Sam shrugged and walked towards the door. "It was the only thing I didn't get back. Everything else was…recovered."

"Did you get your watch back?" Josh asked. He had noticed Sam hadn't been wearing it but had thought nothing of it. Sam's mother had given it to him on his first day at the White House and Josh knew the sentimental value it held. "Where's your watch?" Josh asked again.

Sam sighed and turned to face Josh. "It's in a plastic Returned Personal Items bag behind Judy's equipment in the spare room."

"Okay…that's…okay." Josh followed Sam to the door. He was still greatly relieved that Sam had agreed to venture out of his apartment and he could tell from Sam's body language that if he was pushed on the subject of the watch only one of them would be leaving, and it wouldn't be Sam. "You're buying lunch, by the way, it's part of the healing process," Josh said as he walked past Sam and opened the door.

Sam joined in with the banter but made a mental note to make sure Josh wasn't around when he paid. He really didn't want him to see that he didn't have his wallet on him anymore either.

Sam was alright inside the shops, and he was alright inside the restaurant, what he couldn't cope with was the sidewalk. Josh had kept close to him to start with until Sam had complained that he was making him feel worse. Josh had then tried walking a few steps behind but decided he didn't like that because he couldn't see Sam's face. He hurried along and walked in front of Sam but had to keep turning to make sure he was okay and after he had walked into three people, Sam grabbed his arm and told him to stop acting like an idiot.

As they approached the mall at Georgetown Park the sidewalk became busier. Despite his earlier frustration at Josh's actions, Sam now kept close to him. Josh kept up a stream of chatter but Sam still found himself becoming more anxious as he walked through the crowd of strangers. Blurred faces flashed by him, interspersed with flashes of colour and sound. A red scarf caught his eye and then vanished, a man's hacking cough blasted in his ear, a strong perfume wafted past him and the sickening scent seemed to linger on him. Still Sam moved forward, catching occasional glimpses of Josh's head and following in that vague direction. They were near to the entrance and would have made it but just as they approached a man stepped towards Sam sideways from the flow of people. He touched Sam's arm and started to ask if he had a couple of minutes to answer a few questions but Sam had already pushed him away and darted into the middle of the road. Josh heard a car horn and turned around to find Sam standing in the road. He rushed over to him and grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm combating my fear of sidewalks," Sam explained as another car swerved around him.

"Not here you're not!" Josh shouted. "This isn't helping my fear of being killed by a car!"

"This was your idea, Josh! Dragging me out of the apartment to prove a point, well you proved it so get me out of here!"

Josh held onto Sam's arm and yelled when he saw a taxi approaching. He waved his arm at it while dragging Sam back towards the edge of the sidewalk.

The taxi drew up and Josh bundled Sam inside. "National Art Gallery, please."

"Josh!" Sam complained. He just wanted to go home.

"Boston's a big place, Sam. You need to be out of your apartment for longer than five minutes!"

The cab pulled up and Josh paid and then again took hold of Sam's arm and pulled him towards the entrance to the sculpture garden.

"Is this some sort of sculpture therapy?" Sam asked as he followed Josh through the entrance.

"It's an outdoors thing. Let it never be forgotten that I am-"

"An outdoorsman, yeah, yeah. I was feeling safer when I was standing in the middle of the road."

"Just follow me," Josh mumbled before turning to look properly at Sam. "You okay?"

"Yes, Josh, I'm peachy."

Josh paid and led Sam through an entranceway.

"Wow!" Sam said as he walked through the door and into a beautifully landscaped garden. A kaleidoscope of colour met his eyes as he glanced around at the flowering shrubs and trees. At the centre of it all stood a fountain and as he looked at it, Sam became aware of the soothing sound of the water. "When did you discover this?"

"Last time my mom visited. She complained that I always took her to the same places so I got Donna to look for something different." Josh shrugged. "I like to come here to think."

Sam turned to him in surprise. "You do?"

"Well, no, but I often think that if I did go somewhere to think this would probably be the sort of place I'd go."

Sam smiled and wandered over to a seating area. Josh followed but made a detour to the pavilion and bought them both a tub of ice-cream. They sat in silence enjoying the peace and savouring the simple luxury of ice-cream, in a park, on a sunny day.

Sam walked towards the exit throwing his ice-cream tub into a trashcan on the way. They stood outside the main entrance and Sam raised his hand. A cab magically appeared and Josh shook his head at his friend's seeming ability to stop the traffic at will while he had to holler and wave his arms to get a cab. This time it was Sam's turn to surprise Josh with his choice of destination. "Colombian Embassy, please," he said as he sat down next to Josh.

Josh didn't say a word. He'd already had his own outing to the scene of Sam's abduction and totally understood why Sam might feel the need to go there again. Sam looked out of the window. When the car stopped he got out leaving Josh to pay while throwing anxious glances at Sam who was walking slowly towards the building. Josh got out of the cab and watched as Sam walked towards the door, stood for a moment and then slowly turned.

As Josh watched him walk away from the building he knew that he was retracing his steps just as Josh had done a few days earlier. Sam stopped and looked in front of him. He was staring at where Josh and Toby had been standing. He turned and looked behind him. "Is that where the van was?"

Josh walked over to where he had been standing when Toby and fear had stopped him dead in his tracks. He looked at Sam and nodded, "It pulled up just about there."

Sam looked at the road behind him. When he turned around again, Josh was amazed at how tired he suddenly looked.

"Shall we head off?" Josh asked.

Sam nodded and waited while Josh hailed yet another cab. By the time they arrived at the apartment, Sam was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. Josh followed him up the stairs and collected his belongings from his stay the night before. "I'll head off. Will you be okay?"

"I'm just going to go to bed I think. I don't know why I feel so tired all of a sudden." Sam walked to the front door and opened it for Josh. "Thanks, for today and last night and for…just…thanks."

"No problem, we all just want to help. You know that don't you?"

Sam nodded and rubbed at his eyes. "I do."

Josh threw his bag over his shoulder but made no move to go.

"It's fine," Sam assured him. "I'm fine. I'll see you on Monday."

Josh's eyes widened. "You're coming in?"

Sam shrugged, "I saw all those gifts in my office you'll only steal them for yourself if I don't."

Josh smiled and waited for Sam to return it before he finally turned and started down the corridor.

Sam could smell the flowers even before he entered his office. He walked in and threw his coat over a chair before reading the tags on the flowers and gifts. He had been constantly surprised at the number of greetings and gifts he had received in the hospital and now he felt overwhelmed again by the good wishes of his friends and colleagues welcoming him back to work. He hadn't seen Toby arrive and was equally unaware of him standing in the doorway.

"I hadn't realised you were so popular. I might have to start being nicer to you," Toby said as he entered the room.

Sam smiled absently and continued reading the messages. When he had finished he sat down at his desk and picked up the pile of cards that had been left for him. "Leo phoned me last night."

Toby sat down in front of the desk. He knew exactly what Leo had told Sam but he wanted to hear Sam's interpretation of it.

"He said that I won't be working on any policy issues or involved in meetings but that you have a number of speeches that I need to work on and that the Counsel's office have some documents that they need me to check the wording on. It means I won't be going to staff meetings or any meetings in the Oval Office." Sam put the cards down and looked up at Toby. "He's made it so that I don't have to see the President hasn't he?"

"Yes," Toby answered. He knew Sam would see through Leo's plan immediately and although he could sense that Sam was uncomfortable with it, he could also see the relief Sam felt at not having to face the President again just yet. "The trial is in two weeks, concentrate on that and then you can deal with what's going on here."

"Am I in the way?" Sam asked quietly.

"No, you're where you belong," Toby stated simply and he stood up and walked back into his office.

Sam stared at the seat were Toby had been. He knew they were bending over backwards to accommodate him and he appreciated it. He was glad to be back at work, glad to feel safe and be occupied. He didn't feel like he belonged here though and he wondered whether he ever would again.


	19. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

"It's there!" Laurie said in exasperation as Sam flew past her for the second time looking for his cell phone. "Slow down."

"Yeah," he answered distractedly as he patted his pockets. "I've got my wallet…I don't need my wallet," he looked up at Laurie who was standing by the door with her arms folded, "I don't need my wallet, right? I'm just going straight there and then straight back." He pulled it from his jacket and placed it on the table. "But I should probably take it because-"

"Sam!" Laurie's cry had the desired effect and Sam stilled instantly and looked at her. "Slow down!" She emphasised both words and stared at Sam until he took a deep breath and nodded. A knock at the door told them that the agent who was driving them to court was ready. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, I just…yeah." Sam picked up his wallet and coat and walked towards the door. He paused before he reached it. "I'm going to throw up." He turned away from Laurie and took a few deep breaths before slowly turning around again. "False alarm," he mumbled but then stopped again and swallowed deeply.

"Are you going to chuck or not?"

Sam considered the question before replying. "Not."

Laurie opened the door and grabbing Sam's hand, walked him down to the waiting car.

Most of the televisions in the West Wing were tuned to CNN. Mael's trial had attracted a great deal of media interest and reports from the courthouse were being constantly updated. Toby sat at his desk chewing on a pencil listening to the latest reporter desperately trying to fill in the minutes before Sam's arrival. A few moments later he heard the words 'Sam Seaborn' and 'arrived' and looked at the screen again. The front of the courthouse had been cordoned off and Sam only had to walk a few steps from the car to the entrance. Toby couldn't see his face but he could see the tension in Sam's shoulders as he walked quickly up the few stairs and into the court. Toby walked over to the set and switched it off and returned to his desk.

In her office Laurie did the same thing. Sam had insisted that she didn't go into the court with him or attend the trial. When she asked him why he had explained that the last thing they needed was pictures of them together splashed all over the papers again. Although Laurie had protested, Sam insisted and had won the argument. Laurie knew he was right: after the scandal of the photo she had built a new life in Boston and she had no desire to revisit that particular episode of her life.

Sam spent the day sitting in the corridor outside the courtroom with Jake, the agent who had driven down to Boston with him and Ron. He hadn't expected to be called today. He had thought about going in to watch the trial but changed his mind at the last moment. After their third cup of coffee, Sam discovered that Jake sailed in his spare time. The ensuing conversation took them through lunch and well into the afternoon. By the time Sam's brief appeared and told him he wasn't going to be called today, Sam had relaxed enough to realise that he was starving and they called into the canteen before going back to Laurie's.

By the time she arrived home from work, Sam and Jake were sitting in front of Sam's laptop deep in conversation. Sam looked up when he heard Laurie enter, "I wasn't called. I didn't think I would be."

"Neither did I," Laurie said as she walked towards her bedroom squeezing Sam's shoulder on the way. A few moments later she emerged, her trouser suit replaced with sweat pants and a jumper, and walked over to the table were the two men sat.

She offered Sam a coffee and did a double take when Jake replied as well. "Shouldn't you be outside looking for suspicious men smoking big cigars?"

"Or big men smoking suspicious cigars," Sam mumbled as he scrolled down the page of yachts to find the one he'd been telling Jake about.

"I'm off shift," Jake explained. "Any cookies going for grabs?"

When Jake left, Sam ordered a takeout and an hour later he and Laurie were on the sofa surrounded by empty food cartons.

"Did you go in to watch?" Laurie asked after Sam had run out of topics that had nothing to do with courts or trials or Mael.

"No, I was going to but then I changed my mind..." Sam's voice trailed off.

Laurie moved closer to Sam and placed her hand on the side of his face. "You're doing great, Sam. You're so much stronger than you realise."

Sam heard the sound of his cries as Incul grabbed his hand. He saw himself pleading with him, begging him. He closed his eyes, forcing the images away.

"You're hot, is the heating too high?" she asked as she ran her hand up towards Sam's forehead.

"I'm fine but I think I better get some sleep." Mirroring Laurie's actions of the day before, Sam took hold of her hand and kissed it. Laurie waited until Sam was in bed before she pulled out her briefcase and started to look over work that she had brought home. She worked for an hour and had been asleep for two more when Sam's cries woke her. She walked quickly to his room and switched on the lamp before calling his name and waiting for him to wake. After he had worked out where he was, Sam immediately apologised for waking her, told her he was fine and turned away from her. Two hours later Laurie woke to the same sounds. Sam apologised again but this time the apologies were interspersed with gasps for breath and mumbled curses. Laurie climbed into the bed, "If you're going to keep waking me up I might as well stay here."

Sam lay still on his side. After a while though he turned onto his back and sighed, "Okay then." He rearranged his pillows and lay back down. "But no funny business." He yelped as Laurie slapped him on the arm and then soon fell asleep. With Laurie beside him, it was the best sleep he'd had since he'd been discharged from the hospital.

The sense of peace Sam woke with didn't last long. The sound of breakfast being made drifted into his room but by the time he was showered and dressed his stomach was already dancing at the thought of what the day might bring.

"Grapefruit, cereal and toast," Laurie announced as he entered the kitchen.

"That looks really great but I don't think I-"

"Sit down," Laurie ordered and Sam obediently sat at the table. She sat opposite him and finished her coffee. "Try it dry," Laurie suggested of the toast that Sam was staring at as if it was going to jump off the plate at him.

"Is that a Boston thing?"

"No, it's a how to eat when you feel like puking thing."

"Oh," Sam smiled. "Yummy!"

Laurie read the paper as Sam forced the toast down his throat using reluctant sips of orange juice to aid the process. His hand was hurting today and he couldn't control the shaking of it either.

The car arrived and Laurie walked down to it with him. Before he got in, Laurie took hold of his arm. "You can handle anything that happens today, Sam- anything." Sam smiled and nodded. He appreciated the words although secretly he believed that there wasn't much that he could handle these days. It cheered him to think that Laurie believed in him though and he tried to hold on to that as the car pulled away from the sidewalk and he began his journey to the courthouse.

Jake turned around and immediately noticed Sam's pale complexion. The agents assigned to Sam knew that no direct threats had been made against him. They also knew it was unlikely that the FARC or any other organisation would try anything. However, they were all aware of how Sam's high profile in the weeks leading up to the Colombian initiatives had led to him being highlighted as a target and the court case placed him in a similar situation. There wasn't an agent on Ron's team who wasn't aware of how hard he had taken their failure to rescue Sam. The Boston job was being dealt with as if the President himself were making the trip and they all knew that Ron had done all he could to ensure that no aspect of its planning had been left to chance. Sam, the agents decided, was the safest man in Boston.

Jake passed a magazine back to Sam. "This is the boat I was telling you about- page thirteen."

Sam browsed through the pages until he found the picture. "That's what Daniels had for the Broughton Cup. He only got to be in that race because the people who made the boat insisted that…" Sam and Jake continued the discussion all the way to the courthouse. Jake felt quite pleased with himself that he had read Sam correctly and knew that a discussion about sailing would engage him enough to help take his mind off where he was going.

Jake followed Sam and waited when he stopped at the top of the stairs and paused before following the signs to the courtroom. He ignored the stares as he moved along the seats at the back of the room. In his eagerness to find a seat away from other people Sam realised he had succeeded in hemming himself in at the end. He hoped that not many other people would turn up. Ten minutes later the courthouse was packed.

Sam fiddled with his tie and ran his hands along his pants. Jake felt a rush of sympathy for him. He knew that Sam would be seeing Mael for the first time since his ordeal and he also knew that seeing him escorted by prison guards would do little to make the experience any easier. Sam noticed the flurry of activity on the left hand side of the court and knew Mael's arrival was imminent. He took in a deep breath and felt his chest protest. He rubbed at it absently as he watched Mael being led to his seat. He could only see the back of his head but it was more than enough to bring back flashes of images that Sam had been trying so hard to suppress.

Sam realised he was still rubbing his chest and stopped the action, clenching his hands in his lap instead. His throat felt dry and he wished he'd thought to bring a bottle of water with him. He forced himself to focus on what was being said but his attention was taken by how far away the door seemed to be. He mapped out how he would get out if he needed to and silently cursed the woman further down the row that had her legs stretched right across the aisle.

He didn't look in Mael's direction again and had almost managed to rid his mind of the memories that seeing him had provoked but then Mael spoke. It was only a few words, a few responses to questions from the judge but the sound of it caused Sam to tense, his stomach flip and a shiver to travel from his neck down his spine. He coughed nervously and felt the tightness in his chest again. He took a deep breath but it caught in his throat and he coughed again.

Mael heard it and recognised it. He had heard the sound of Sam coughing many times before and he knew without looking that the man who had escaped and caused him to be abandoned by Incul and Javier was sitting behind him. He waited a few moments before turning slowly around.

Sam caught the movement and despite his better instincts looked across at Mael. It took Mael a few moments to locate Sam in the packed room but then he saw him sitting in the corner. He stared at him for what seemed to Sam like an eternity, before turning back to face the front.

Jake muttered, "Smart ass," under his breath and turned to look at Sam. He had looked pale in the car but now Sam's face was drained of all colour. Sam tried to calm down. Later on he was going to have to sit in front of Mael and so he told himself he should get used to seeing him now. He tried to slow his breathing and use the techniques that the doctor at the hospital had taught him. He tried to stop his hands from shaking. He tried to stop the wall behind the judge from zooming towards him. He was aware of, and tried to stop all of these things, but he couldn't. He glanced at the door again but it seemed even further away than it had before.

"Get me out of here," Sam whispered to Jake, who only needed to glance at Sam to see the desperation behind the request. Jake stood and grabbed Sam's arm. He propelled him along the aisle. Handbags and legs. That's all Sam could see as he allowed Jake to guide him towards the door. Once outside, Jake quickly thought of the best place to take Sam. He knew that the front of the courthouse would still be swarming with press but thanks to Ron's meticulous planning, he also knew every other exit of the building. Sam got a whiff of bacon as he was led through the kitchen which did nothing to ease his rolling stomach.

Finally Sam felt fresh air hit his face and saw a stretch of blue sky before he doubled over panting for breath. The sound of the lid of a dumpster being pulled open made him look up. He was behind the kitchen surrounded by bins. A worker cast bemused looks at Sam and Jake before throwing the trash bags into the dumpster and making his way back into the building. It took a few seconds for the foul smell of the rubbish to reach Sam but when it did he could no longer resist the urge to vomit that he had been fighting ever since Mael had turned and looked at him in the courtroom.

Jake said nothing as Sam stood heaving. He disappeared for a moment and then came back with two ice-cold bottles of water. "Thanks," Sam mumbled as he opened his and rinsed away the vile taste in his mouth. Jake sipped at his water as he walked around the area, giving Sam some privacy and satisfying his natural curiosity.

"This place is a health and safety nightmare," he told Sam as he walked back over to him.

"I didn't know the Secret Service had a health and safety unit," Sam replied, pleased that his voice sounded normal.

Jake laughed. "My dad's an inspector of hotels. He tells me the places not to go to. I'll tell you what, Sam, we're not eating here again!" Sam smiled and downed the rest of the water.

"You ready?" Jake asked as he threw their bottles into the trash. On Sam's nod he held the door open and led him back to the courtroom.

"Hi Donna," Laurie said as she answered the third call from her that morning, "I don't know how it's going, I haven't heard from Sam, I haven't been watching the coverage and I don't know if they've adjourned for lunch yet."

"Thanks, speak to you later, Laurie."

Josh had insisted that Donna keep phoning Laurie for news and after the second call Donna had stopped bothering to ask any questions and just waited for Laurie's automatic replies. It was easier than trying to explain to Josh why there was no point in constantly phoning Laurie for news. She walked into Josh's office and over to his desk. "She doesn't know how it's going, she hasn't heard from Sam, she hasn't been watching the coverage and she doesn't know if they've adjourned for lunch yet."

Josh put down the papers he was reading. "That's what she said last time."

"Yes, and the time before that, but I think we're right to keep phoning. She's obviously lying and sooner or later we're going to wear her down."

Josh walked past her and Donna followed him and watched as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "You see, this is exactly the sort of thing that I don't think Leo gets from Margaret- this sort of sassy…backchat, it's back-sass is what it is and I think you should be above it," Josh said as he walked past her and back to his office, the effect of his exit ruined slightly by his need to return to collect his coffee cup.

"We need to be clear about this, Mr Seaborn. Do you have any recollection of Mael Gacha initiating any acts of violence towards you?"

Sam could feel Mael's stare but he was determined not to look at him. The idea that Mael was in some way less culpable than Incul and Javier, made him want to laugh out loud, but he knew that he just needed to answer the questions, ludicrous though they were, and get out of the room as quickly as he could. "No," Sam replied and tried to ignore the tightness in his chest.

"Your medical report details injuries sustained from a number of beatings that took place over the period of your captivity, can you recollect who carried out these attacks?"

What a jackass, Sam thought, as he looked at the lawyer. He wanted to answer that it was Mael and watch him react to that. "It was a man called Incul," he replied instead.

"Were you restrained in any way during these attacks?"

Sam took a sip of water and cleared his throat before answering. "I was bound…and ill…I don't think I posed much of a threat." Sam saw his own lawyer smile at his reply and scribble something down on his pad. Sam closed his eyes and forced the images of Incul standing over him to disappear. He saw instead a new image of Incul, this time he was at eye level with Sam as he threw punch after punch at him. Sam could almost feel the arms gripping him from behind and with perfect clarity the beating that he had sustained in the basement suddenly came flooding back to him. The lawyer was talking but Sam couldn't make sense of his words. He knew he would just be asking him the same question again though. "One time, I was taken to the basement and Incul beat me, Mael held me up, he was there the whole time. He was encouraging Incul."

"What was he saying, or is this just another vague recollection that you have?"

"He was telling Incul…" Sam rubbed at his chest as he spoke. The pain from earlier had returned and was worsening as his breathing became more rapid, "he was laughing…he was telling Incul what a good job he was doing. They took photos of me afterwards…Mael kept telling Incul that my face didn't look bad enough for the photos… the beating only stopped because Mael couldn't hold me up anymore." Sam forced himself to breath more slowly. He had forgotten about this beating and he wondered how many more memories would come back during the trial. He took a deep breath, he needed to speak, he needed to let them know what Mael had done. "Mael held me up when he broke my hand-"

"Mael broke your hand?" the lawyer clarified.

"Incul, Incul broke it but Mael held me up. He held me against the table."

"Did you struggle?"

Sam clenched his fist. He had listened to defence teams twist and turn facts until even the victims were unsure if their attackers were innocent or not but he had never felt such rage as that simple question had provoked in him. He could feel his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand and used the pain to counteract his anger. "Of course I struggled. I stopped when Mael pointed a gun at my head."

"Thank you, Mr Seaborn. No further questions, your honour."

Sam had returned to Laurie's, showered and dressed before he said a word. He was getting ready to go out when Laurie walked into the room and asked how it had gone.

"I'll talk to you when I get back. If I start now I'll be late." He grabbed his cell and keys and walked out of the room. Over the past few days, Laurie had learnt when to push and when to leave Sam alone. This, she decided, was definitely one of the times that she needed to leave him alone.

Jake drove Sam to the restaurant. Laurie had selected it and made the booking, ensuring that it was a secluded table. Sam got out of the car and glanced at the Jake's packed meal and newspaper on the passenger's seat. "I'll smuggle you out a dessert."

Jake peeked into the bag and smiled. "No need, I got myself a snickers bar." Sam smiled and shut the door. He took a deep breath and walked into the restaurant. He waited to be shown to his table and ignored the somersaults that his stomach was performing as he neared the table.

The man sat at the table in the far corner of the room stood as he saw Sam coming. He held out his hand and shook Sam's warmly. "Hello Sam. It's so good to see you up and about." John Delaney waited for Sam to sit and then sat down opposite him.

The sound of the vacuum filled the corridor before Josh reached Sam's door. As far as he knew, Sam didn't employ a cleaner and Josh couldn't think who would be at Sam's place this late in the evening. He knocked but whoever was inside couldn't hear over the noise of the machine. He opened the door with his spare key and stood in the doorway. He smiled to himself as he saw Jessica Seaborn vacuuming the living room and singing along to a song on the radio. Josh knew that if he walked in he would startle her, so he went back out and closed the door. When the sound stopped he knocked on it, called out and entered.

"Josh! What a surprise!" she smiled at him but then the smile faded. "You couldn't hear me singing could you?"

"Ah, that's what it was. I thought it sounded like the vacuum was broken." He smiled as Jessica slapped him playfully on the arm and started to sort through a pile of newspapers.

"I thought that while Sam was away I'd come over and clean the place. I didn't want him coming back to the mess he'd left."

"In Sam's case a mess is having a knife in with the forks."

"I've just finished sorting them," she smiled. "So did you sense that I was here and needed help or did you stop by for something else?"

"As much as I'd love to stay and help you fix this place back to obsessive standards, I've just dropped by for something that I left in the spare-room."

"Help yourself, I'll be in the kitchen if you get the urge to help."

"I won't," Josh assured her. She laughed quietly and left the room. Josh walked towards the spare room and opened the door slowly. He looked towards where Judy's equipment had been and found the space empty. He called out to Jessica and she explained that Judy had taken it all before Sam had gone to Boston. Josh cursed silently and walked over to the empty set of drawers that had been behind Judy's belongings. The drawers were all empty and in a last attempt to find the bag, Josh reached into the space between the wall and the cabinet. He groped in the space until he felt a plastic bag. He pulled it out and quickly put it into his backpack.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Jessica asked when she saw Josh enter the kitchen. She was pulling plates out of a cupboard and cleaning the shelves.

"Yeah thanks," he watched as she wringed the cloth in the bowl and wiped the surface again. "Sam will appreciate this when he gets back."

"I doubt he'll even notice but it's making me feel better."

"Yeah," Josh nodded. He knew how helpless Jessica felt. He felt the same. They stared at each other for a while longer, both wanting to say something but equally unsure of what to say. "I better be heading off," Josh said and Jessica smiled and nodded. When she heard the front door shut, she turned back to the bowl, rung out the cloth and wiped over a surface she had already cleaned once before.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Ginger had hoped that the printer cartridge would last for the whole report but the machine started to churn out scattered letters signifying the end of its life. She muttered under her breath and walked over to her desk. She groped around in the drawer before her hand came to rest on the new ink cartridge that she was searching for and was about to close the drawer when a piece of paper caught her eye. She had tried to forget the book she had been running on Sam's neckties and after he had been abducted she had shoved it to the back of the drawer.

She unfolded the paper and looked at the list of names, choices of tie and amounts of winnings and losses.

"I was going to wear a bowtie."

The voice startled her and the paper fell from her hand, "Sam, I didn't see you…I was just looking for a new cartridge. This was in the drawer…I'd…I'd forgotten all about it."

Sam picked it up and handed it to her. "Anyway, I was going to wear a bowtie, throw the whole book off."

Ginger smiled, relieved that it hadn't upset Sam. "You still can, I won't tell anyone."

"I don't think I'll be appearing on Capital Beat anytime soon. Not unless they want an exclusive on what the Spanish President's Birthday greeting says."

"What does it say?"

"Happy Birthday, Amigo! I was thinking brevity is the sole of wit." Sam walked over to the coffee machine and started to pour his third cup of the morning. He took a sip and then turned to find Ginger staring at him, a warm smile on her face. "What?"

"Nothing, just, it's so good to see you, Sam."

"You too," he said and smiled. The quiet of the moment was shattered by Toby who came thundering into the Bullpen.

"No, wait, let's blame it on the person who suggested we should wait until after the vote?"

Josh followed close behind him. "You see, when you say it like that it makes me look pretty culpable."

"I'm sorry, let me put it a different way. The blame, which is absolute, lies at the feet of the person who spoke eloquently and persuasively on the subject of waiting until after the vote who, it now appears, had not the slightest idea of what he was talking about."

"That sounds a lot more like me," Josh said as he perched on Ginger's desk.

Toby waved his hand in the air in exasperation and walked into his office.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Nothing much, Toby's being…Toby and unfortunately for him, I'm being Josh."

Sam nodded in understanding and took another sip of his coffee. "I better get back to it. I've got an opposition paper to write and a speech for the Surgeon General to check."

"Don't flaunt your reduced schedule at me; I've got three more meetings, two reports to write and Donna on overdrive to contend with."

Sam patted Josh's back and walked back to his office.

The trial was two weeks away and the days passed slowly for Sam. He watched Toby going off to staff meetings and meetings with the President and was surprised at how little he cared. He kept to his office, venturing to the Mess on the rare occasions that his meals weren't organised for him by Ginger, Bonnie or Donna. He arrived after everyone else and left before them. He did whatever work was given to him and was constantly relieved that Toby didn't ask him for his input on what he was working on. He was grateful for the uninspiring tasks he was given. He feared the day when he would be asked to craft words for a major speech. He couldn't see how his hand would ever be a conduit for messages of hope or inspiration again.

Nobody stared at his hand, not with the intensity that he had feared they would. People knocked when they came to his door now, they had learnt after a few days that Sam didn't like anyone to see him typing. He wouldn't write and documents that Bonnie had needed signing had sat on Sam's desk for three days before Toby had told her to remove them and had signed them on his behalf.

Sam had managed almost a full week before his frustration at his weak and clumsy fingers became too much to hide any longer.

Josh was next door with Toby when a curse followed by a crash made them jump to their feet. Toby made it to Sam's office first to find him standing with his hands on his hips staring at his laptop which lay spread-eagled on the floor.

"Sam?" Toby said, quietly.

"It wasn't…working," Sam explained, lamely.

Toby bent down and picked up the laptop and the shattered glass from a picture that had been knocked from the wall. As he stood he glanced at Sam and saw anger still etched on his face.

"Surprisingly enough, I think it's okay," Toby said as he handed the laptop to Sam.

Sam took it from him and put it back on his desk slamming the lid down before he walked in front of his desk to retrieve the items that had been hurled off it in the laptop's wake.

Toby crouched down to help but he dropped the paperweight on the floor when Sam spun around. "I can do it!"

Toby stood and gestured at Josh to leave the room. They left Sam to it and waited until he emerged a few moments later. He looked no calmer than he had before and said a curt goodbye walking away before Toby had a chance to say anything.

After he left, Toby went and looked at the laptop. Sam hadn't shut it down and Toby was able to open the files that he had been working on. He soon saw the cause of Sam's anger. Not only was the document littered with typing errors but the content was a collection of repeated phrases that clearly illustrated Sam's block on he subject he was writing about. Toby sighed and pushed the lid down softly.

Sam came in the next day as if nothing had happened and the days leading up to the trial passed without incident. The weekend before he was due to go to Boston, CJ invited him, Toby and Josh over for a meal. It was the last thing Sam wanted but he appreciated what CJ was trying to do and went along with it.

"Don't make him pizza," Josh said as he caught up with her on the way to the briefing room.

"I'm not."

"Good, because that would be bad."

"Yeah, you've said, like fifteen times already."

When the briefing was done she headed back to her office and found Toby waiting for her. "I don't know what you've got planned for tonight but whatever you do, make sure it's not pizza."

CJ walked around to her chair and perched on the desk. "I like to think I'm a reasonable woman and I've been told I'm the perfect hostess but I swear to God, if you or Josh tell me one more time not to make Sam pizza I will get my pizza knife and use it to slice your-"

"Oh man!" Josh cried as he poked his head around CJ's door, "I've just thought- best not do any finger-food tonight either."

CJ stared at Toby then Josh. She rolled her eyes and collapsed into her seat. "You're still here?" she said as she looked up at the two men.

Toby pushed Josh out of the room. "Trust me it's better that we leave. CJ's got this pizza knife visualisation going and I didn't like the way she was looking at that letter opener."

Sam reached into his pocket and handed the fare over to the cab driver. He stood on the stoop for a moment before he forced himself out of his stupor and made his way up to CJ's apartment. He was dreading the evening. He had managed to keep it together during his two weeks back at work. The time he had spent with CJ, Josh or Toby had been minimal but now he had all three in one room to contend with and he wasn't sure he could keep up the façade of being in control for much longer. He took the drink that CJ offered him gratefully and sat perched on the edge of the sofa.

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" Toby asked already aware of how nervous Sam seemed.

"Late morning, I'm travelling up with some agents."

"You haven't given me Laurie's number yet."

"Josh has it. I'm taking my cell and I'll give you a call when I get there."

"Okay." Toby sat back in his chair and told Sam to do the same. "You look like you're waiting for a job interview."

Sam raised his eyebrows and smiled. He pulled his jacket off and finally relaxed back against the cushions. The doorbell rang and Josh entered the room. He and Toby discussed the events of the day and Sam, who didn't know and cared less about them, wandered into the kitchen. "Can I do anything?"

"No," CJ replied as she brushed her hair away from her face and closed the oven door, "We're all done I think." She straightened up and walked over to Sam. "I want you to enjoy tonight. I want you to relax before you go to Boston and before you shrug it off, we both know that it's going to be hell for you to have to stand in that courtroom and see that man again." Sam stared at the floor beside CJ's feet but he looked up when she reached out and laid her hand on his chest. "I never expected for one minute that you would stop seeing Laurie and I'm glad she's going to be there for you. Promise me you won't shut her out?"

The statement took Sam by surprise. He placed his hand on CJ's and nodded. They separated when Josh burst into the room requesting a rough estimate when dinner would be ready.

In the end CJ had decided on Lasagne. She watched with contentment as Toby and Josh helped themselves to a second serving and was even happier to see that although Sam declined another helping, he had managed to clear his plate.

When the dishwasher was loaded they made their way into the living room. CJ threw off her shoes and stretched out on the sofa. She watched Sam sipping at his brandy and waited for Toby to pass hers over.

"So what time are you leaving tomorrow?" Toby asked.

"Mid-morning, I think. Ron's picking me up." Sam took a sip of brandy and kept his gaze on the glass as he swirled the translucent liquid around it.

Toby nodded slowly. "You spent enough time with your lawyer?"

"He's pretty thorough. I've met with him five or six times. I don't feel unprepared if that's what you're asking."

Josh tried to think of something from his legal background that he could add to the conversation but couldn't. "Don't forget you're going to be getting national coverage, I want to see some sharp suits."

Sam smiled and took another slow sip.

"Did your lawyer go through possible questions that the defence might ask?" Toby asked as he sat forward in his chair causing CJ to steady her drink which slurped suddenly at the movement.

"I didn't get this guy from a TV ad, Toby. He knows what he's doing."

"Yeah, I know, I'm just trying to make sure you feel prepared."

Sam wanted to laugh. He had a terrible urge to burst into hysterics. He could feel it rising in his chest and bubbling in his mouth. He had never felt less prepared for anything in his life. He knew what he had to say and do in court, that wasn't the problem; it was how he would react to seeing Mael again that had caused him to lie awake for the past three nights.

"Mael's guilty, no one's denying that, but the defence are going to try to minimise his role in the kidnap. They're going to make it sound as if he had little or nothing to do with your abduction and incarceration, and they're going to do it by twisting everything you say and remember about what happened."

"I think Sam's pretty clued in to what the defence are going to do," Josh pointed out. "I seem to remember he had quite a good job before he came to work on the campaign."

"Yeah, okay," Toby was standing now, rubbing a finger across his forehead and staring at Sam, "but you've never been on the other side before and even though you know all the tricks it doesn't mean you can see them coming when you're on the stand."

Sam listened to Toby but looked down at the floor. He knew that Josh and CJ were staring at him and he could feel Toby's gaze too. He wanted to assure them that it was all okay, he was in control. He listened to Toby's words and decided to listen, agree and then make his excuses and go home.

"Just remember to stay calm, don't let them provoke you. I know it's going to be hard for you to talk about it all again and some of the things they bring up are probably going to throw you but you have to stay focused. The thought of seeing Mael again must be worrying you and-"

"It terrifies me." Sam's admission stopped Toby in mid-flow. Sam took a deep breath and the air escaped in a nervous laugh. Toby walked over and sat down beside him. CJ leaned over and grabbed his hand. Josh stood and moved closer to them and sat in Toby's vacated seat. Nobody spoke and Sam was grateful for it. The silence that descended as he sat surrounded by his friends was more comforting than any words could have been.

Sam was packed and ready to go long before Ron arrived to escort him to Boston. He sat and waited in his living room with his coat draped neatly over his lap. The sound of the buzzer made him jump and he frowned at how sudden noises made him jump now. Even though he had done it a number of times, he checked that everything was unplugged before picking up his case and coat and leaving his apartment.

He hadn't seen Ron since they had briefly discussed security arrangements for the trip a few weeks ago and Sam was relieved to discover that Ron was driving and an agent was sitting in the passenger seat. He didn't want to have to make conversation and he suspected Ron didn't relish the prospect of it either. Sam gave his bag to the agent and got into the back of the car. "I appreciate you doing this, Ron. I know you've probably got more important stuff to do than ferry a White House staffer around."

"This is important," Ron answered and he turned to look at Sam before turning the key and pulling into the traffic.

They stopped for a cup of coffee on the way but that was the only stop. Ron was keen to get to Boston and make sure everything was okay at Laurie's place. He also wanted to go to the courthouse and make final security arrangements there. Sam felt embarrassed at the level of protection he was being offered but he didn't say anything and nodded his head dutifully when Ron asked him if he understood the arrangements.

Laurie had taken the day off work and she had obviously been looking out for them as the front door opened as soon as the car pulled into the drive. She walked up to Sam and hugged him closely. "Hey, you," she whispered before she kissed him on the cheek and turned her attention to the two other men.

Quick introductions were made and then Ron shepherded them all inside where he insisted that Laurie give him a tour of her house so he could satisfy himself that a member of the FARC wouldn't have an easy route through a window or door even though he had already ordered two agents to do the same and make a report of any potential security issues. `

It was another hour before Sam and Laurie were alone. She led him to the spare room and sat on the bed while he began to unpack his suitcase. Laurie offered him a drink which he declined, she asked him how things were in the White House and he replied that they were fine. She knew that if she let him, Sam would try to shut her out of what he was going through as much as possible.

"Hey, I still don't know if that pen you gave me writes on the moon, but the other day I used it on the subway sitting between a puking baby and a drunk so it's definitely commuter-proof."

Her comment had the required affect and Sam stopped ferreting in his suitcase and came and sat down next to her.

"Hey," Laurie said when Sam was beside her.

"Hey," he replied and they sat in silence for a few moments. She felt Sam lean against her and sigh. "I'm sorry."

"You apologise to me again and you can find digs somewhere else."

Sam smiled but his expression turned blank when he felt Laurie reach for his right hand. She could feel him stiffen as she brought his hand towards her and studied it. Sam's eyes closed as he felt her soft lips gently kissing his fingers then the back of his hand. She placed his palm against the side of her face and nuzzled against it. Sam pulled her head towards him until it was resting against his. They sat like that until the ringing of the phone disturbed them. Laurie fell backwards on the bed and reached for it. She listened to the voice and then rolled her eyes. "Guess who?" she asked Sam as she handed him the receiver.

"Hi, Josh. Yeah fine…he stayed for an hour…no it was okay not much traffic…yeah…fine, yeah…okay, bye." Sam handed the phone back to Laurie and shook his head. "He just wanted to make sure I got here okay," he explained as he fell back onto the bed and lay next to her.

"Of course, because being driven by the head of the Secret Service and an agent isn't as safe as it sounds."

Sam smirked but it was lost on Laurie who was staring at the ceiling. "They worry…a lot, and I don't think they like that I'm staying with you."

"Well then they should take their heads out of their-"

"Not because it's you but because they want me tucked away in some safe house or something."

"This is a safe house, Sam," Laurie said and she reached again for Sam's hand and squeezed it.

"I know," Sam answered with a smile and he closed his eyes. Laurie lay next to him, both of them with their legs dangling off the end of the bed, until Sam fell asleep.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

The sound of passing traffic was muted when Josh pulled the car door closed behind him. He sat in darkness for a few moments before reaching up and switching on the interior light. He pulled the plastic bag from his backpack and ran a hand over the crinkled label that was stuck to it. Sam's full name was written at the top followed by a reference number and a list of contents. Where it read 'Nokia Cell Phone' someone had written by hand, 'retained for evidence'. Josh sighed and chewed on his lower lip before unsealing the bag and emptying the contents onto the passenger seat.

Sam's wallet was the first item that he picked up. It was empty apart from a few credit cards and three photographs of Sam's parents, a dog on a beach and a couple of children that Josh didn't recognise. He placed it carefully to the side and rummaged through the other items. He picked up Sam's keys and fiddled with the brass letter H that hung from them. Sam had told him once what it stood for but he couldn't remember now. Next, Josh picked up a pen and held it closer to the light. It was expensive and had Sam's initials engraved on it. He placed it next to the wallet. He picked up a folded piece of paper and was struck at Sam's fluent script as he read the list of notes Sam had jotted down in preparation for his meeting at the Colombian Embassy. He pictured the scrawl that Sam had written to Laurie and shook his head at the disparity between the two.

There were only a few items left. Josh ignored the watch that lay in the middle of the seat and raked his hand through the remaining objects without picking them up. There was a comb, a button, a few coins, a packet of mints and Sam's pager. He put all of them back into the bag and then picked up the item that he had saved until last: Sam's watch. Josh knew that it had been a gift from his mother. It was engraved on the back with Sam's name and his official start-date at the White House. Josh winced and instinctively stuck his thumb into his mouth. He tasted the iron tint of blood as he turned the watch over and saw the broken face and jagged glass that remained on the edge of it. The hands were intact but the rim of the face was scratched. Josh wrapped it in a handkerchief and put it in his pocket. He reached up to switch off the light, started the engine and pulled into the road. Above him, Jessica watched him drive off, closed the curtains and headed back to her cathartic cleaning of Sam's home.

The first twenty minutes of Sam and John's meal had been filled with safe topics such as John's journey to Boston and a discussion about whether the restaurant was part of a chain or not. They talked briefly about what John might be asked in court the following day but John sensed that the subject was making Sam uncomfortable so he started to tell Sam about his mother. He explained that she still felt awful about not realising that he was in the house next door to her. Sam looked at the bowl of pasta as it was placed in front of him. He had really wanted a steak but he had been worried about not being able to cut it in front of John.

"There was no way she could have known. I heard him talk to her, he was very convincing," Sam explained remembering the feel of the gun against his head as Mrs Delaney has stood just feet away from him.

"Well, she feels bad anyway but she said to tell you she's thinking of you and that the flowers you sent were beautiful."

Sam smiled and shrugged. After their plates had been cleared, Sam broke into a coughing fit. He rolled his eyes at John and took a long sip of water. "I think it must be the Boston air," Sam explained. Their coffees arrived and the two men sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Sam placed his cup down and leaned forward. "I know I've said this in my letter but I hope you realise how grateful I am to you for what you did."

John waved his hand dismissively. "Anyone would have done the same thing. I was just in the-"

"No, they wouldn't, they didn't," Sam interrupted. "There was a man who drove right by me. I walked up to his car and asked him to help and he locked the door and drove off. There was a woman who saw me and she ran back into her house. Not everyone would stop, John. If you hadn't stopped I'd be dead now and it's as simple as that."

John stared at Sam. He had always assumed that he had arrived just as Sam had escaped and had no idea of the scene that had played out before. Sam sat back in his seat and took a deep breath, his outburst had surprised him too.

"I've been thinking about it a lot, about why you stopped and that other man didn't. I wonder if he ever thinks about it, if he even remembers it." Sam picked up his cup and drained the dregs of his coffee. "Why did you stop?"

John shook his head and shrugged. "I really don't know. It's not like I made a conscious decision about whether I should or shouldn't. I suppose because it was so close to my mom's house maybe I felt what was happening concerned me. I only intended on pulling over and asking you if you were alright. Everything happened so quickly, that guy with the gun appeared and I suppose some people would have driven off when they saw him but somehow you were already my responsibility. I suppose the man was as much as a threat to me as he was to you so, by then, we were pretty much in it together." John run his hand over his face and when he removed it he was smiling. "You sure picked a great person to drive the getaway car though. I didn't have a clue where I was." John shook his head at the memory. He had spent many nights haunted by his ride to the hospital. In every dream he was unable to find it and Sam would end up bleeding to death in his car. He was still able to appreciate the almost comic nature of his journey though and the bizarre feeling of being escorted by police cars and outriders to the hospital in his beaten up old Ford.

"I don't remember much," Sam told him.

"It's just as well! You'd have probably bailed out on me if you'd known how out of control I was. Man, I couldn't stop shaking for hours afterwards."

Sam smiled at the amazed expression on John's face as he recounted the experience. They sat for a while longer talking easily about a variety of subjects. They made plans to stay in touch and Sam told John that the President was going to arrange for him and his mother to visit the White House. As they were leaving the restaurant, John stopped in the doorway when he felt Sam's hand suddenly grab his arm. "I want to go back to the house. I want to go back. Will you arrange it for me? I don't know where it is you see. Nobody has told me where I was taken but I thought that you-"

"I'll do it, Sam. I'll phone the realtors and arrange to get the keys." Sam relaxed and moved his hand off John's arm and offered it to him. John shook it, holding Sam's hand in both of his. Their farewells were halted by the hovering agent who ushered Sam into the car. John watched as the car disappeared from his view and then he sat on the wall outside the restaurant and phoned his wife.

Sam entered the house as quietly as he could, tiptoed across the dining room and tried to make his way to his bedroom in the dark. The room was suddenly filled with light and through squinting eyes Sam saw Laurie standing in front of him with her arms folded. "And what time do you call this?"

"Hoy chocolate time?" Sam asked hopefully.

"It is," Laurie smiled and told Sam to get into bed and she'd bring some to him. After the first few nights of nightmares, Laurie had made hot chocolate for them. She returned with two cups and got into bed.

They snuggled under the covers together. On the TV, Columbo worked doggedly to find the killer as Sam told Laurie all about his day in court, his panic attack and his evening with John. "It's been quite a day." He placed his cup on the bedside table and went into the bathroom and Laurie followed.

"Is John taking the stand tomorrow?" Laurie asked with a mouthful of toothpaste.

"Yeah, we didn't talk about it though." Sam rinsed his mouth and then leaned against the sink and looked in the mirror at the pale man staring back at him.

"Two more days, Sam, that's all," Laurie said as she came and stood behind him.

Sam nodded and they walked back to bed together. Laurie reached over and switched off the lamp and wondered how much sleep she'd get tonight before a fist, moan or cry woke her.

John Delaney recounted his experience to the lawyer with ease. It was a tale that he had told many times. Sam sat and listened as memories of that day flashed through his mind. He knew he would be called later in the day and tried to make sense of the muddled pictures in readiness for the questions.

Sam met briefly with his lawyers after lunch and then sat down outside the courtroom and waited to be called. Jake sat silently beside him. Both men sipped from bottled water and watched the people coming and going along the corridor.

"Sam Seaborn," a woman announced from outside the courtroom and Sam handed his bottle to Jake before rising and walking towards her.

"Many people who I have spoken to have commented that Sam Seaborn seemed unwell as he took the stand on the penultimate day of this trial." The reporter stood in front of the courthouses and Toby walked towards the television and turned the volume up. "Today was spent examining the last few hours of his ordeal and how he escaped from the house. John Delaney, the man who rescued him from the street, testified and a number of police officers also took the stand. But today was really a summing up by both sides of Mael Gacha's role in the abduction and tomorrow I don't think we're going to see anymore testimonies given. The jury are expected to be freed tomorrow afternoon to start their deliberations although both legal teams say they are expecting a very quick conclusion to that."

Toby switched the set off and walked back to his desk. He wanted to phone Sam but knew Josh would have been watching the coverage and would already be on the phone.

Sam sat back against the car seat and closed his eyes. The defence lawyer had been relentless in his questioning. Sam had gone over and over the final moments that had taken him from Mael's clutches and to John's car and now he found he couldn't get the reawakened images from his mind. His head hurt, his mind was reeling and he was exhausted. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket as it started to vibrate and glanced at the screen before answering. "Hi, Josh." Sam couldn't help smiling as he heard Josh's anxious voice.

"Cindy Brooke, says you looked unwell!" Josh stated as greeting.

"Cindy Brooke phoned you!" Sam replied. He knew Josh would have seen the attractive reporter on CNN but he couldn't help teasing Josh and avoiding the subject at the same time.

"On the news, Sam, it was on the news. She said you looked unwell in court today!"

"I am unwell. I'm tired, my head hurts and I've had to listen to a pile of crap about Mael's motivations all day."

"Sam-"

"Josh, I'm fine, really. I'll phone you later." Sam slipped the cell phone back into his pocket and stared out of the window for the rest of the journey back to Laurie's. He had already decided that he wouldn't go to court tomorrow. He couldn't face it again and he certainly couldn't face hanging around until the jury returned their verdict.

Once home, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Laurie had asked him to stay for the weekend and Sam had decided to accept. He had no desire to return to Washington and the idea of delaying the inevitable was too tempting to resist. He let the hot water stream down on him and felt the tension begin to leave his shoulders and neck. By the time he had got out of the bathroom and changed, Laurie was home.

She had become very good at gauging Sam's moods and she knew that he wasn't ready to talk about what had happened in court. Instead, she told him how her day in court had gone. Sam listened as he helped her unload the groceries.

"I think I will stay this weekend, if it's still alright with you?" he asked as he put the last item in the fridge.

"Of course it's alright. I won't be home until late tomorrow though, I've got a dinner. I have to go to New York. It's for our biggest clients, I have to go and-"

Sam held his hands up, "You don't have to explain. Anyway, I think I might like a bit of time to myself."

Laurie nodded, walked over to Sam and wrapped her arms around him. "When I get back I'll show you the sights." Sam raised his eyebrows and grinned until Laurie whacked him on the head and set about pouring them both some wine.

Laurie noticed Sam left most of his meal but didn't comment. She didn't comment on how pale he looked either. It was only when she was woken by the sound of Sam retching in the bathroom that she decided to say something. "There's a clinic just round the corner, why don't you go there tomorrow and get something."

"It's fine. I'm just rundown, it's not like I've got pneumonia!"

"Not funny, Sam," she said as she rubbed his back before handing him a glass of water.

"Okay, if I still feel bad on Monday I'll go see my doctor when I get back to DC."

Laurie knew she would have to be satisfied with that but she couldn't help but worry as she lay back down next to him.

When she woke the next morning she could feel the warmth radiating from Sam. During the night he had pushed the covers away and lay on his front, one arm over Laurie and the other dangling down the side of the bed. "You're ill!" Laurie said instead of good morning. "You're hot and you look like shit."

Sam's head burrowed further into the pillow. "Been a long time since a woman woke me up to tell me I was hot…one told me I was a shit a while ago so…"

"You know what I meant," Laurie said as she reached towards him and lifted his face from the pillow. "You look awful."

"Laurie, it's…" he squinted at the neon digits, "five a.m, everyone looks like crap at five in the morning."

"Not you, you're the freaky immaculate type." She pulled at his shoulder until Sam reluctantly rolled over and faced her. He was about to tell her he was fine when he winced at the light in the room and covered his eyes. When he had removed his hands he could only look at her sheepishly.

"I'm going to call a doctor," Laurie said decisively as she moved from the bed. Sam's hand grabbed at her wrist.

"Don't, I'm okay, it's just been a hard week and I'm-"

"Rundown, yeah, I've got it." Laurie studied Sam as she reached over and felt his head. "You don't feel as hot as you did in the night," she agreed reluctantly.

Laurie got ready for work and then brought Sam some juice and coffee. She sat on the bed and watched him drink. "The newspaper's here, there's a carton of soup and some more juice in the fridge. I've left some painkillers in the bathroom, you know, for your thick head," she said as she tapped Sam's head ignoring his cries of protests.

"I'll be fine, phone me when you get there and thanks for all this."

"Just spend a day in bed, get some rest and be better for my tour of Boston."

Sam nodded, smiled and shuffled back down under the covers.

"Am I allowed to do that?" Bartlet asked Charlie as they walked towards the Oval Office.

"I don't think so, sir."

"I don't want to injure these people…just scare them off," he reasoned as he walked towards his desk.

"Mr President, I don't think wearing flip-flops is against the law."

"But on this carpet it should be," Bartlet said as he pointed at the seal beneath him. "I have enough to deal with, without having to look at people's feet. Couldn't I just lay down a few well-placed drawing tacks?"

"No, sir," Charlie said as he turned to leave, raising his eyes at Josh, Toby and CJ who were on their way in.

"I'm thinking of introducing a footwear code for the Oval Office," The President announced as his staff gathered around him. "The first item on it will be no flip-flops to be worn at any time."

"Unless for medical reasons," Josh added.

CJ was about to ask what reasons they might be when a groan from Toby stopped her. "Can we, please, can we not do this? We have real issues of importance that need discussing and as far as I can recall, nowhere on today's schedule did I see a mention of flip-flops."

Bartlet looked at Toby and then at Josh. "We can do this later, Josh," he said as he sat down behind his desk and started discussing the pressing matters of the day.

At the end of the meeting, Bartlet asked Toby and Josh to stay behind. He walked over to the sofa and gestured for them to sit down. "How's Sam?"

Josh glanced quickly at Toby before replying. "I spoke to him yesterday. He seemed fine. I think he's a bit rundown but apart from that he's coped really well with the court case.

"When is he coming back to DC?"

Toby answered cautiously, he knew that he was really asking when Sam was coming back to work. "He's due back on Monday. I'm going to meet with him on Wednesday and we'll see where we go from there."

Bartlet nodded thoughtfully. "I want him back here."

"With all due respect, Mr President, I think the last place Sam wants to be right now is here, and I think the…"

Bartlet looked up at Toby. "Go on, Toby, you were about to say that you think the last person he wants to see right now is me."

Toby shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yes, I was."

"I think I am too, and that's why I'm asking both of you to let me know what's happening. I don't want Leo handing me Sam's letter of resignation to be the first I hear of it. If there's a chance for me to speak to Sam, to explain to him…if you think that he might be open to that then I want you to do everything you can to make sure it happens." Bartlet looked at Toby and then Josh only satisfied when and both men nodded and assured him they would.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-two

Toby was sorting through his messages as he entered his office when a scent that he recognised wafted towards him and he looked up to find CJ sitting down on his sofa. "If I haven't got deputies sleeping on my sofa, I've got press secretaries lounging on it."

CJ stood up and straightened her jacket. "I have something to ask you, Tobus, and for your information I wasn't lounging I was reclining."

"And the difference is?"

"It's something to do with leg position. Listen, Laurie was speaking to Donna yesterday and they thought it might be nice if we went up to Boston at the weekend."

Toby put the slips of paper down and gave her his full attention. "Does Sam know?" CJ shook her head and Toby scratched his. "I don't know. Talk to Josh, see what he thinks."

After CJ had left, Toby reached for his phone. There had been no coverage of Sam arriving at court this morning but he wasn't overly surprised. He had spoken to Sam briefly last night and he'd told him that if he had to listen to one more word spoken in Mael's defence, he would lose it. Toby had agreed that in that case going and listening to his defence lawyers summing up the case probably wasn't the wisest course of action.

He dialled the first few numbers of Laurie's number but then replaced the receiver. Maybe going to visit at the weekend wasn't such a bad idea. Right now, Laurie was probably the best placed to judge Sam's mood and she had suggested it. Toby pulled a file from his briefcase and set about preparing for his next meeting.

Three hours after Laurie had left, Sam woke up. He walked into the bathroom and picked up the pills that Laurie had left out and put them back in the cabinet. He knew that it would take more than a couple of aspirin to stop the headache, nausea and fatigue that plagued him daily. He scooped some water into his hands and rinsed his face. Stress was the cause of his headaches, he decided as he squirted some shaving foam into his hand. The fact that his stomach lurched every time an image of what had happened to him flashed through his mind, probably accounted for the nausea. The images were becoming more frequent and Sam wondered that he didn't spend the whole day throwing up. Sam didn't know why he felt so tired all the time. He supposed being constantly woken by nightmares didn't help.

He pulled his head to the side and carefully pulled the razor across his cheekbone. Dropping it into the sink he lifted the hair away from the side of his face. The place where his face had crashed against the bedpost during one of Incul's beatings was marked by a tiny scar. He pulled his hair back over it and closed his eyes. He could remember the warm blood trickling down his face and the taste of it as had it had run into his mouth. He shook his head, physically trying to remove the new picture from his mind. Sam turned the faucet and cupped his hands under it. He looked down at the water and shrank back. He thrust his hand into the sink sending splashes of water in all directions. His hand groped and then grabbed hold of the cigarette stub that was floating in the sink. He pulled it out and tossed it into the bin. Leaning heavily against the sink he breathed deeply and forced the image out of his mind. It was only when he opened his eyes and looked back down at the water that he saw the trickle of blood running from his finger down the porcelain. He rummaged through the trash can and retrieved the razor that he had mistaken for Incul's cigarette stub. Cursing loudly he slammed his fist against the mirror, angry at allowing himself to react so irrationally to one of the images that haunted him, and frightened out how real it had been.

Outside Laurie's house, Jake cursed and sat upright in his car. His sudden movement was caused by his thermos which having toppled over was now spilling over his sandwiches. He glanced at the house as he righted the flask and began to mop up the mess. Taking a bite out of his soggy sandwich he stared up at the bedroom window. He had seen Sam walk in front of the upstairs window a few moments ago and he wondered if he would appreciate some company when his shift finished. He looked at his watch and groaned as he realised that the end of his shift was still four hours away. Sighing, he picked up the remnants of his coffee-soaked sandwich and reached for the magazine he had been reading. A passer-by jumped as Jake shouted a curse and flung the magazine onto the back seat: it was covered in coffee too.

A blur of motion across the street caught Jake's eye and he glanced up at the figure that fled Laurie's house. His stomach lurched as he realised that someone had got inside. As he jumped out of his car and started to cross the street he recognized the figure as Sam and judging from his behaviour, he still had cause for concern. He ran over to him and grabbed his arm. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

Sam looked at him in confusion and tried to shake him off.

"Is there someone in the house?" Jake asked more urgently as he dragged Sam towards the car.

"No," Sam answered, suddenly realising what Jake was thinking. "No, nothing like that."

Jake opened the door and pushed Sam inside locking it behind him. He raced around the other side and got in and started the engine.

"Jake, it's alright, really, I just had to get out of there." Sam placed his hand on Jake's arm.

Jake could feel Sam's hand shaking. He looked at him and realised that he looked exactly the same as he had in the courtroom when he had leaned over and whispered for Jake to get him out of the room. Jake looked out of the window and let Sam get himself together.

Another agent approached the car but turned and walked away after Jake had signalled everything was okay.

"Two of you?" Sam asked his voice betraying his attempt to appear calm.

"Yep, and you see that guy selling hotdogs over there, he's one too."

Jake smiled at the sound of Sam's gentle laughter and handed him a bottle of water. "So have you always suffered from claustrophobia or just since you were abducted?"

Sam's head shot-up at the question and for a moment a flash of anger crossed his face but then he slumped back in the chair. "I've been trying to tell myself that it's just some sort of panic attack but…" Sam shrugged and shook his head.

"It seems pretty understandable to me, after what you've been through. But, I can tell you one thing for sure, it's not going to go away by itself."

The tone of Jake's voice made it clear that he was talking from experience. Sam smiled and thanked him then drained the rest of the water.

When Laurie returned late that night, she found Sam sprawled out on the sofa on his front. One hand loosely held the remote control and the other was draped on the floor. Three empty beer bottles, a Chinese takeout carton and a coffee cup littered the table. Six unread messages flashed at her as she glanced at the answer-phone. She crouched beside him and took the remote putting an end to the black and white film that was playing quietly in the background.

"Sam!" she nudged his arm but got no response. Placing her hand on his head she stroked his hair a few times before blowing gently on his face. Sam smiled sleepily. Laurie laughed and blew again. Sam opened his eyes and turned so that his back was against the sofa. He reached out and gently brushed Laurie's hair away from her face.

"Did you hear the verdict?" she asked.

"Yeah, Michael phoned me as soon as he got out of the court."

"Guilty, Sam, guilty of hostage-taking and conspiring to commit hostage-taking." The verdicts were not a surprise but there had been a part of Laurie that had wondered how Sam would have coped if, through some fluke, Mael's defence team had managed to get him off one of the charges.

"Well, hostage-taking in violation of Title 18, United States Code, sections 1203 and 1202 and conspiracy to commit in violation of Title 18, Sections 371 and 1203…if you want the 'geek bravado' version."

Laurie and Sam smiled at their shared memory of a diner in DC. The smile faded from Sam's face and he looked at Laurie intently as he brushed a last lock of hair away from her face and rested his hand on her cheek. Laurie nodded imperceptibly, and standing, held her hand out. They walked hand in hand to the bedroom. Outside, the agent in the car below saw the dining-room light being switched off and the bedroom light going on. He watched the two silhouettes become one, only breaking apart when one of the figures moved towards the window and pulled down the blind.

Laurie's plan to show Sam the sights of Boston didn't come to fruition. They stayed in bed until noon, eating bagels and watching cartoons. By the time they were both showered and dressed it was late afternoon and neither of them had the energy or inclination to leave the house. Thinking they were staying in all day, Laurie had put on an old pair of jogging bottoms and a sweatshirt. She suddenly sat upright on the sofa, smacked her forehead and cursed.

"What?" Sam asked as he was nudged sideways with her movement.

"I need to go shopping. We haven't got anything for tomorrow."

"We've got bread, we'll go out tomorrow. I'm not leaving this sofa and I have to tell you, I don't think Boston is ready for those sweatpants."

Laurie distractedly swiped at Sam's head as she mentally started to plan a list. "I need to go today. There's only one bottle of wine and I haven't even planned what they're going to eat yet."

Sam gave up on the crossword and placed the paper on the table. "We'll get takeout. You don't need to cook anything. Or we could go out to eat. Why are you suddenly so worried about-" Sam stopped talking and turned swiftly in his seat so that he was facing Laurie. "They're, you said they're going to eat."

"Did I?" Laurie tried to stand but Sam grabbed her arm.

"Tell me you didn't."

"Tell you I didn't what?" Laurie asked feigning innocence.

"Please, tell me you didn't invite certain members of White house Senior Staff to dinner."

"You're going back to DC on Monday and I just thought-"

"Laurie!" Sam said in unbelieving tones.

"It'll be…fun," she finished lamely.

"Fun! It will not be fun, Laurie. Do you know what it'll be?" Laurie shook her head and tried not to smile as Sam launched into what she was sure would be a diatribe about the dangers of sharing a meal with your friends. "It will be a cringe-making, agonizing, unbearable evening of covert 'how does Sam look to you' glances and moments of waiting for the right moment to ask if I'm coming back to work…moments."

Laurie looked up at Sam who was breathing heavily and standing with his hands on his hips. "Have you finished?" She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows until Sam nodded reluctantly. "Right- first of all I have invited them because they're your friends and although you're doing everything in your power to push them away at the moment, you need them. Secondly-" Sam opened his mouth to reply, "shut-up, secondly, it will be fun and I'm beginning to wonder if you're ever going to allow yourself to have fun again-" Sam began to point out that he'd had fun last night but Laurie carried on regardless, "and finally, you're not afraid of them asking you if you're going back to work, you're afraid of the question, period."

Sam looked as if he was about to argue but then he closed his eyes, sighed and let his arms fall to his sides. "I'm not afraid."

"You are and you have every right to be, but what I don't get is why you're trying so hard to fight it. All week you've been going out of your way to make me think that you're okay. Don't you think that the fact that you wake up shouting or crying and then cling to me so hard that I can hardly breathe has clued me into the fact that you're not okay? I have to hand it to you, Sam, you've done a good job at hiding it, but that fear doesn't leave you when you wake up. I can see it and if I can, then everyone else can as well."

"I'm not afraid," Sam repeated but it was whispered, and his trembling body made a lie of his words as Laurie pulled him close and told him to hush.

Sam wiped the sixth glass and placed it on the table. "Shall I light the candles?" he called towards the kitchen.

"Not yet," the reply came and Sam put the matchbox back on the table. He walked into the kitchen and watched Laurie work.

"I can't decide who's the most nervous," Sam stated as he leant his head against the doorjamb, "but I'm beginning to think it's you."

Laurie added a sprinkling of something to a pan on the hob and turned to him. "I'm not nervous, I'm just…you know…" she shrugged and then caught Sam's puzzled expression. "Before last Monday did any of your friends know that we kept in touch?"

"No, but that's not because I'm ashamed or I think that they would-"

"It's alright, Sam, I'm not accusing you of anything I'm just saying, to your friends I'm still the call-girl in the picture and not much else."

"You're right," Sam soothed as he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Let's just cancel."

"Oh no, you don't! I just thought it might help you to cope with the evening if you knew I was having a cringe-making, agonizing, unbearable time too."

"You know what, it really does." Sam pecked Laurie on the cheek and then ducked her hand as she turned to strike with the tea-towel. "You're getting a little bit too handy with those fists. If you want my friends to warm to you I suggest you don't spend the evening hitting me." Sam walked out of the kitchen and smiled as whatever it was that Laurie threw at him hit the doorjamb.

Toby leant back in his chair and watched the golden liquid roll around the sides of the glass. He surreptitiously looked for an ashtray deciding a cigar would finish the meal off perfectly. He couldn't see one and so resigned himself to making do with the brandy on its own. He took a sip and closed his eyes as it flowed easily down his throat. A sudden noise in front of him made him open them and sit up in time to see a wash of brown curls as Laurie straightened up from beside the coffee table. An ashtray had been placed in front of him. "Light-up, Toby," she as good as ordered. He smiled appreciatively and immediately pulled a cigar from his pocket.

Sam and Josh entered from the kitchen and on smelling the smoke already pervading the room, Sam's face lit up. "I haven't had a cigar in ages," he said as Toby reached over and handed him one. They sat in companionable silence for a while as Josh watched the circles of smoke wafting towards the ceiling. Laurie, Donna and CJ had gone into Laurie's bedroom.

"What are the womenfolk doing?" Josh asked as he kicked off his shoes and stretched out his legs.

"Laurie's got six shelves of shoes," Sam said as if that was explanation enough.

"This is like the olden days," Josh said, "the men stay and drink and smoke cigars while the women go next door and do…tapestry…or something."

"Thank you, Professor Lyman, for that insight into the society of the 'the olden days'," Toby scoffed.

Sam rested his head on the arm of the sofa and smiled. Now that he was sitting here with his friends, he couldn't believe that the notion of seeing them had made him so worried. Laurie had hidden her own nerves well and it soon became apparent to her that she'd had no need to be worried either. Josh had felt uncomfortable for a while. He was painfully aware of the circumstances of his last meeting with her, but Laurie had put him at his ease by telling him that although it had taken Sam three years, he had finally managed to persuade her that Josh wasn't always as much of a jerk as he had been that night.

"The olden days," Toby said again in mocking tones and Sam grinned and sent his own smoke ring chasing after Toby's.

"Laurie's got six shelves of shoes," CJ announced as she, Donna and Laurie returned to the room. Donna sat on the spare chair and CJ made Toby scoot along the sofa. Laurie picked up Sam's legs, sat next to him and then placed them on her lap. Toby glanced at Josh who simply smiled and shrugged. He hadn't been surprised to find out that Sam had kept seeing Laurie, in fact, he would have been surprised if he hadn't.

Donna and CJ were the first to leave, both kissing Sam goodbye and making him promise to phone them as soon as he was back in DC.

"I think I'll call it a night too," Laurie announced. She looked at Sam who nodded and then rested his head back against the arm of the sofa. When Laurie didn't move he opened his eyes and looked up. "I sort of need you to move your legs," she pointed out. Sam hoisted himself upright and leant forward as Laurie went to kiss him.

Toby watched as Laurie placed her hands on Sam's cheeks and kissed him goodnight. After she had left the room he lit another cigar and studied Sam silently before speaking. "You never stopped seeing her, did you?"

Sam glanced at Josh before answering. "I did for a while, until she moved here, then we started again. If you'd have asked me I'd have told you but you never did. It was a lie by omission," Sam stood up and walked over to the drinks' cabinet, "and we all know how good we are at spinning those!"

"I take it you're talking about the MS disclosure?" Toby knew that was exactly what Sam had meant and he decided to stop playing games. It was time to get Sam to start talking. Josh lifted his glass from the table, sat back in the chair and waited to see if Toby's ploy would work.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sam didn't answer Toby straight away. He filled his glass and returned to his seat. He stared at his glass for a few moments and then finally raised his head. "I used to feel bad about it, like I was lying to you, but you never asked me, you just assumed…I used to feel guilty about it. When we found out about the MS, it stopped being an issue. Turned out that my little secret was nothing compared to other people's." Sam looked like he was going to carry on but he took a long swig of bourbon instead.

There was silence and then Toby moved to sit next to Sam. "How's your hand?" he asked.

Sam was taken by surprise at the question. His initial reaction was to shrug off Toby's concern but then he remembered Laurie's words about pushing everyone away. Slowly, Sam put his hand on the coffee table in front of him. Toby and Josh looked at it as if they had never seen a hand before, and waited for him to speak.

"I saw a doctor before I left DC. He said the bones had healed really well but that the joints were still stiff…something to do with the capsule and tissue scaring the joint." Sam flexed his hand as he spoke and Toby and Josh continued to stare at it. "He said I should have a full range of motion back within a year."

"A year!" Josh exclaimed, although it was almost whispered.

"Maybe less, he said the pain should be gone by then."

Josh glanced at Toby who was still staring at Sam's hand, his face set with anger.

"This one," Sam pointed at his middle finger, "if you look at it from the side, you can see how the tip is bent downwards, and this one," again Sam pointed, "this one is crooked now." Sam's matter-of-fact tone didn't fool his friends. They sat patiently, hoping Sam would continue. After a moment's silence he spoke again. "It's just an ache mostly but sometimes..." his voice trailed off and he removed his hand from his friends' view, "sometimes the pain is like…it reminds me…it's the same pain as when it happened, when they broke it. The doctor said that was normal, that the pain can remind you of the trauma. It's…weird."

Weird, Toby thought, was not the word he would use to describe what had happened and was still happening, to Sam. "Have the hospital fixed you up with someone you can talk to?"

"Yeah, I was seeing someone. I'll sort out some more sessions when I get back." Sam stood and fetched the bottle and topped up his glass. He offered it to Toby and Josh but both declined.

Toby threw back the last mouthful of his and placed the empty glass on the table. "Whilst we're on the subject of you getting back to DC, have you thought anymore about returning to work?"

Sam couldn't help the small breath of laughter that escaped. "Well, now, have I thought about if I want to go back to the White House where I was last seen throwing teacups around the Oval Office?" Sam answered.

Josh leaned forward. "Come on, Sam, you're making way too much of it. It was only one teacup." Sam's half-smile encouraged him to continue. "Just, do what you did last time- don't make any promises or plans, just come back and see how you feel, take it from there."

Sam nodded slowly, his situation had changed little from the first time he had gone back to work: no desire to be there but afraid of being anywhere else.

Sam spent his last couple of days with Laurie enjoying some of the sites of Boston. The agents had returned to Washington apart from Jake who remained with Sam and drove back to DC with him. Sam's goodbye to Laurie was brief. He told her not to come out to see him off but even as he shut the door behind him he felt a sudden coldness at the loss of her presence. On the other side of the door she felt the same and she opened it to find Sam reaching up to ring the bell. A hug, a kiss, another hug and then Sam was getting into the car. Laurie walked down the stoop and watched until it disappeared from view.

Sam's return to work was much like his previous return. People tiptoed ever so gracefully around any subject that may cause him to remember what had happened. He found it slightly comical that they thought he only remembered being abducted, beaten and tortured if they happened to mention it. He knew he was still being kept away from the President and the Oval Office and was worried that he felt relieved by it.

Toby's face became a constant portrait within the frame of the window dividing their offices. Josh would find himself 'just passing through' the Communications Bullpen a number of times a day. CJ could often be found sitting in Sam's office on her way to or from a briefing. Sam took it all in good grace and tried not to let the feeling of suffocation, which their scrutiny was causing him, show.

He knew his writing was poor but Toby didn't correct it or send anything back once it was done. He used Sam's ideas as a basis or filed it in the back of his cabinet. Sam's work rate was slow and although his hand was much improved, he couldn't type with the speed and dexterity he could before.

Sam knew he was little use to Toby but he didn't care. They had kept going on at him to come back to work and he had come back. If they weren't happy with what he was producing then they would just have to go on at him to leave. He spent most of his time at his desk, only leaving when absolutely necessary.

Sam sighed, removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes as he watched Ginger walk through the Bullpen and towards his office. He knew what she was going to ask and so answered first to save her the trouble. "I'll just have one of those salad things, thanks."

"Why don't you come to the Mess with me? You might see something else you like."

Sam pulled a face and shook his head. "I'm swamped here as it is without stopping to…" Sam stopped when he saw Ginger's folded arms and raised eyebrows. "Don't try and get me out of my office. I like it here, there's this weird guy next door but apart from that I'm quite happy."

"People are going to stare, Sam, it's natural, but if you hide away in here they're only going to stare more." A shrug and an apologetic smile were her only reply. "Okay, but you're not getting a dessert," Ginger said as she turned away.

And so it went on. Sam withdrew more each day and his friends tried but failed to stop it. He went to work, he came home. His mother visited and told him that keeping everything inside was making him ill. His father visited him and told him being back at the White House was making him ill. Josh called on Sam one night and continued the theme.

"You look like shit," he said as Sam reluctantly held the door open and watched him walk into his apartment.

"Paging Doctor Lyman, you're needed in the OR."

"Well, you do! You're pale and you've got this baggy, dark thing going on under your eyes." Josh carried on into the kitchen and dumped some beers on the table.

Sam stood with his hands on his hips and watched Josh search for clean glasses. "You should get your mom back here to pick up the place it's like someone's come in and trashed it." He pulled some dirty plates from the sink and started to run some water into the bowl. He kept his voice light but the state of Sam's normally immaculate place had shocked him. He walked into the living room and took in the papers spread across the table, unopened mail lying amongst it and dirty cups and plates littering the floor. Peeking into the bedroom he saw a similar scene but with discarded clothing scattered around the floor instead of cups and plates. So absorbed was he in his discovery of the disorder that he had forgotten its cause who still stood by the kitchen door his arms now wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Sam?" Josh stood in the bedroom doorway and looked across at Sam who was staring at the floor. "Sam?"

"Don't, Josh, okay, just don't."

"You're just, existing, aren't you? I mean you're coming to work and going through the motions but really you're just on auto-pilot or something." Sam had made it clear that he didn't want people coming round and everyone had backed off thinking that he needed his space but now Josh realised just what a mistake that had been. "I mean…God, look at this place!" He walked into the bedroom and picked up a shirt from the floor. "What do you do, just come in, throw your clothes on the floor, eat, go to bed, then do it all again the next day?"

Sam shrugged, it was pointless answering, it was pretty obvious that was exactly what he was doing.

Josh pushed. He didn't know what else to do. "How the hell are we supposed to know what's going on if you keep shutting everyone out? How can we help you…how the fuck can we help you if you're not even trying to get yourself together?"

"Trying!" Sam pushed himself away from the doorjamb his lethargy vanished and replaced by rage. "Trying! I'm trying to get out of bed every morning when all I want to do is stay there. I'm trying to find something to eat that I don't throw straight back up because I can still taste the crap they fed me. I'm trying to sit at my desk and write when all I can see are fists and blood and puke and cigarette stubs and pieces of fucking paper with fucking drugs…and guns and…"

"Well, I'll tell you something- you're not trying hard enough!" Josh just had time for the thought that he had pushed too far to enter his head before he felt Sam's hands on his shoulders and was reeled back towards the wall. He slipped down it and started to right himself when Sam grabbed him.

"You arrogant son of a bitch," Sam seethed and shoved him again. "You don't know…"

Josh wasn't sure what it was he didn't know because Sam had decided that a punch would be more effective than finishing his sentence. Again, Josh slammed into the wall. Before he had recovered he could see Sam lunging at him he surged forward and tried to block the blow but, already wheeling from the first, he was unable to defend himself. As he landed on the floor for the second time, rage took hold of him and he sprung up and towards Sam, his fist flying out and landing firmly on Sam's jaw. Sam staggered backwards but didn't fall.

Even amidst the chaos of the fight, Josh acknowledged that venting his anger was probably doing Sam a lot of good but he also knew that allowing Sam to beat him to a pulp for the sake of his mental health did not appeal to him very much. He ducked another blow but then Sam flew at him again and even though he was tiring, the force and accuracy of his punches left Josh no option but to counter them. He grabbed Sam and they struggled before Sam lost his balance and Josh fell with him. Josh heard the plates and cups smash under them as they rolled along the floor. The hard leg of the coffee table bought an end to their horizontal struggle and Josh found himself sitting on top of Sam, pinning his arms to the floor. Somehow, Sam rolled away from Josh far enough to be able to bring an elbow up and into his stomach. Josh fell backwards, his head narrowly missing the edge of the table. A string of breathless curses flew at Josh shortly followed by Sam. Both men were tiring and their actions becoming clumsy. They rolled again, Josh ending up once more on top. Josh took hold of Sam's sweater and pulled him upwards.

The lamp had been knocked over, but at this angle Josh could see Sam's face illuminated by the light from the kitchen and his anger was palpable. "You supercilious fuck!" Sam yelled in Josh's face. Silence followed. Josh had been kneeling in front of Sam, holding him up, their faces nearly touching, but suddenly he slumped down onto the floor and his head fell forward onto his chest.

Sam heard the gasp and for a moment thought that Josh was crying. He could feel the tremors that run through Josh in his hands that still held onto Sam's sweater and rested against his chest. Sam studied the top of Josh's head and watched as it shook from side to side. It was only when Josh loosened his hold on Sam slightly and lifted his face that he realised that Josh was laughing. He was so surprised that the anger that had been raging through him disappeared at once. He stared back at Josh who was taking a breath and trying to speak. "Supercil…supercilious fuck…oh man," Josh dissolved into hysterics again.

Sam's face became a slideshow of expressions from anger, surprise to bemusement. Finally, despite his best efforts, bemusement gave way to amusement as he continued to stare at Josh.

"Supercillious- who the fuck says supercilious…" Josh dissolved once more, his hands still clutched Sam's sweater. "Supercilious fuck…oh man that's just too good."

Finally, Sam allowed the laughter that was bubbling inside him to escape. Blood trickled down his chin from his nose but he was as oblivious to it as Josh was to the blood that dribbled down his own chin. The sight of Josh helpless with laughter coupled with the absurdity of finding himself sprawled on the floor after beating on his friend, caused Sam to laugh with the same helpless gasps of breath as Josh.

"I don't think…I don't…" Josh struggled to regain some sort of composure, "I don't think I've ever had a supercilious fuck. There was this…girl…once…though who…" it was all he managed to say before they both collapsed again, Josh's body falling forwards and his head coming to rest on Sam's shoulder.

It took a while before they were composed enough to move to the bathroom and see to their cuts and bruises. Sam perched on the edge of the bath while Josh rung a couple of cloths out. He handed one to Sam and then sank down against the wall and dabbed at his still bleeding lip. He looked around the bathroom and this time decided it would be wise not to comment on the state it was in. He glanced at Sam who was studying the cloth before placing it back gingerly onto his nose. Josh noticed Sam was holding it awkwardly and as a sudden flash of Sam's fist flying towards him entered his head he moved towards Sam. "Shit, is your hand okay? You didn't hurt you hand did you?"

Sam placed his left hand over the cloth and held up his right hand in front of him. "I don't think so. It hurts, but then I did land you some pretty serious blows."

"The coffee table landed me some blows. You were just a minor inconvenience as I tried to avoid smashing into the cups and glasses that fell off it."

Sam raised his eyebrows and shook his head at Josh before turning away again and mumbling 'coffee table' with a disbelieving air.

Sam explained that he was below par because he was recovering from being in hospital. Josh explained that he had gone easy on Sam because he knew it was misdirected anger. The water in the sink had gone cold by the time Josh picked up the discarded cloths, threw them away and suggested a take out to go with the beers that waited for them in the kitchen.

The television sent flickers of multicoloured light around the living room where Josh and Sam sat sprawled on the sofa. Josh had said nothing as he watched Sam eat the takeout they had ordered. Sam's appetite had been improving but he still couldn't finish a meal. He would start eagerly enough but halfway through every meal his appetite would suddenly disappear. It was memories of eating the food with his fingers that would always come flooding back during a meal and put him in danger of losing what he had already eaten.

Josh was pretty sure that if Sam wasn't careful he was going to develop an eating disorder of some kind. But, he didn't say anything. He had one more thing he wanted to discuss tonight and Sam's eating habits wasn't it.

"You got the time?" Josh asked and glanced at the watch Sam revealed as he pulled his sleeve up.

"It's just gone twenty pa-"

"You haven't looked have you?" Josh interrupted and continued at Sam's confused shrug. "The bag of your belongings the police gave to you, you haven't looked at it."

"They're just things that I…they're not important, I've replaced most of them. They're just coins and stuff," Sam replied defensively.

"It's not just stuff, it's the stuff you had on you when you were kidnapped, your wallet, watch, pen, keys and photos special enough to carry around with you. Stuff that was important to you then and still is now."

"I can't believe you, I can't believe that you would come into my home and rake through my stuff like some…some…"

"Oh yeah like you've never raked through my stuff you supercilious fuck!" Josh countered and was relieved to see his words have the desired effect of halting Sam's stumbling tirade. "Look in the bag, Sam," he finished quietly.

Sam switched on the light in the only tidy room in his apartment. Since Judy had left, the spare room had remained untouched by Sam. He walked towards where Judy's equipment had been and knelt on the floor. Reaching between the wall and the chest of drawers, his hand found the plastic bag. He tipped the contents onto the floor and raked his hand over them. He knew without looking too closely that the items had been cleaned. His pen that his father had given him when he graduated always leaked but the ink stains were gone, his dull leather wallet was now shining but was outdone by the sheen on the brass H that hung from his key ring. He flipped a few of the coins over and remembered sitting by the Potomac eating the bagel he had bought the morning of the day he had been taken.

He realised that Josh must had done this. It wasn't the act that had surprised him but the fact that Josh had managed to wait so patiently for Sam to discover the gesture. He stood up and returned to the living room.

"Where's my watch?"

Josh turned to Sam, smiled and nodded. He walked over to his backpack and pulled out a box. He walked back to his chair forcing Sam to join him. Sam sat down next to him and picked up the box. He knew his watch was inside and that it too would have been cleaned and repaired. He traced his finger over the new glass before removing it from the box and reading the inscription that he had read so many times before. Finally he looked up at Josh who was studiously watching an episode of Kung Fu.

"Thank you," was all he said but the look of gratitude was clear for Josh to read.

They held the stare until Josh broke the silence. "Your mom gutted this place while you were gone, you know. You should be ashamed of yourself letting it get in this state."

Sam looked around the room and nodded. "It's a shit-hole. I am ashamed."

Josh shook his head and took a swig of beer. "I'm ashamed and I don't even live here."

Three hours later Josh and Sam had come up with a plan. The plan had begun quite sensibly with notions of hiring a domestic service to come and clean his place. But, as they drank their way through the rest of the beer they ended up deciding that Toby should start his own cleaning service. Team Toby's Tidies would cater for busy executives. The staff would wear overalls with a Giant T emblazoned on the front.

Josh finally slumped against the arm of the chair and fell asleep after giving a heated speech on why Team Toby's Tidies cleaning staff would be wearing green and not blue as Sam had suggested. Sam managed to stumble over to the cupboard and find a blanket and cover Josh before crawling onto his bed. Before he turned the light out, he removed the watch, stared at it for a while and placed it carefully on the bedside cabinet. The light from the lamp was replaced by a sliver of light from a streetlight outside and Sam stared at the second hand of the watch until his eyes slowly closed and he slept.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Josh and Sam were next to useless at work the next day. Toby had known something was not right the moment he had stepped into Sam's office. Josh was sitting in Sam's chair, his head resting on his folded arms on the desk. Sam was sitting in the visitor's chair in a similar apathetic state.

"Did I miss something? Was there a speechwriting emergency that I missed?" he asked as he walked over and pulled up the blind. Sam began to reply but the sudden influx of light made him groan. Toby turned and looked at Sam's confused squint. "I'm asking if your current state of lethargy is due to having to work all night or is it perhaps possible that you are both hung over." He shouted the words 'hung over' and it caused Josh's head to shoot upwards. Toby caught sight of Josh's swollen lip but concentrated instead on his fumbling words.

"Me and I and Sam got together last night and we were…strategising…about…" Josh looked at Sam helplessly.

"The plight of the small business owner," Sam replied and the hidden reference to Team Toby's Tidies made Josh giggle in a way most unbefitting of a member of the President's Senior Staff.

Toby wouldn't dare admit it, but the sight of his deputy finally looking relaxed and happy made the fact that he and Josh had come into work in such a state irrelevant. He didn't even mind that the private joke between the two men that had caused the grin on Sam's face was probably about him. He guessed they had fought last night but whatever had caused the disagreement certainly seemed to be behind them now. "Get out of my deputy's office," he shot at Josh. Sam smiled but it vanished when Toby turned his attention to him. "And you, get some coffee and put on a tie or something you look like…like…un-Sam like is what you look like."

It took more than one coffee to make Sam feel even semi-Sam like again. He didn't see Josh until late in the afternoon. Donna passed his office on her way to the Mess and told Sam she was going to get Josh some water and soup and then scolded him for letting him drink so much. Sam smiled; this was normal, things were almost normal again.

Twenty-four hours later, Sam was being driven by Toby along a street he didn't recognise, wondering what the hell he was doing and craving the relative normalcy of being told off by Donna for getting Josh drunk.

He glanced at the house numbers but stopped looking when he saw John Delaney standing by the road further ahead. His stomach churned as he recognised the hedge that he had walked beside when he had escaped from the house. Like a distorted childhood memory, the size of the hedge was considerably smaller than he had remembered it being.

Toby pulled up beside John's car and switched off the engine. "You don't have to do this, you know. No one's going to think worse of you if you don't want to do this." When Toby had found out about Sam's plans to visit the house where he had been held captive, he had told him that he thought it was a bad idea. But, as the days passed and Sam became even more determined to go through with his plan, Toby stopped objecting and surprised everyone by insisting on going with him.

Sam opened the door but turned to Toby before getting out. "I'll think worse of me," he answered simply and walked over to meet John who was waiting for him outside his mother's house. "I'm really grateful for this, John. Where the realtors okay?"

"I told you, it's no problem." John studied Sam who looked like he didn't have a clue what to do next. "Listen, I know you said that you wanted to do this on your own but if you want me to hang around I'd be more than-"

"No, it's okay, really. You've already taken time off work to get the key and meet me. I'll be fine. I just want to go in, have a look around and then get back to work myself."

John felt his stomach lurch at Sam's detached words. He made it sound like he was a prospective buyer of the house rather than going to revisit a building in which he must have experienced hell. "Okay, if you're sure. I've left it unlocked my mom's got the key and she'll keep an eye out and lock up after you. You can go up the drive or cut through here and go by the back." Sam nodded and absently shook John's hand before turning and squeezing through the gap in the hedge that took him to the house where he hoped to rid himself of some of the fear that was still invading his life.

Sam walked around the back of the house. None of it held any memories for him and he congratulated himself on how he was coping. His sense of composure soon dissipated though as he walked around to the front. The door was open and the same streak of light that had heralded his bid to freedom cut across the hallway. He pushed the door slowly and then closed it behind him causing the light to shrink away and then vanish. Sam stood for a few moments until he had grown accustomed to the dim light inside. The doors to the rooms had been left open. Sam stood still looking at the doors and trying to decide which room of memories he wanted to enter first. Slowly he walked towards the end of the hallway where Incul, Javier and Mael had slept. He had never been in the room and whenever he had used the toilet the door to it had been closed. He pushed the door with his toe and peeked inside. The room was completely empty. He shut the door firmly and walked to the other side of the hall.

The bathroom was just as empty as the first room had been. Sam pictured his captors' possessions scattered around the sink. He had a sudden desire to know what had happened to the can of deodorant he had used to facilitate his escape. He wondered if it was in a bag somewhere in the precinct waiting to be returned to Javier or Incul. Sam frowned at the bizarre thought and pulled the door closed.

There were two rooms left. He walked back towards the front door. On the left was the kitchen and the right was the room he had been held in. As he walked, he passed a door on his right. He couldn't remember there being another room and for a moment his curiosity outdid his fear. He saw a light-switch by the side of the door and flipped it before pushing the door wide open. As soon as he did, a damp, musty smell made his stomach churn. He had forgotten the basement. He had forgotten being dragged down the stairs and then lying on the floor after being beaten until he was dragged back up them. His breath caught in his throat and he held onto the doorjamb until he had recovered from the onslaught of memories that the smell had reawakened in him. He pulled the door to so violently that the bathroom door rattled in sympathy.

Sam closed his eyes and slowly forced the images out of his mind. He looked at the kitchen across the hallway and pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards it. Sam knew he had failed. He knew that his plan to come here to try to put some of the fear to rest, had failed. All he was doing was reawakening memories to add to his already crowded nightmares. He had to finish it though. He couldn't leave now and let fear beat him again.

He hadn't remembered the squeak of the kitchen door until he heard it again. The squeak had meant that food, uneatable, foul food was on its way. He tensed now like he had tensed then and unconsciously rubbed at his neck as he walked further into the room. The loaves of bread were gone; that was his first thought and again he chastised himself for having such unrealistic notions about what he would find in the rooms. He walked over to the table and stood by it for a while. His fingers brushed over the pine surface and followed the grooves that Incul's gun had made when it had missed Sam's hand. He closed his eyes tightly against the sight of the gun held above Incul's head before the first blow. In a flash of rage that took him by surprise, he slammed his fist hard onto the table, the sound managing to lessen the echoes of Incul's gun hitting his hand and helping to dissipate the images of his hand being held down by Mael.

Sam turned abruptly and walked from the room. Again he pulled the door tightly closed behind him. He hoped to trap all the memories in the rooms, he hoped to lock them away but he knew now that it would take more than a closed door to trap the images and fear that haunted him..

There was one room left. Sam stood in the hallway and stared at the door that was slightly open. He kicked it fully open with his toe but remained standing in the hallway. A deep breath, a quick swallow to quell the sudden nausea and he walked slowly into the room. The bed had moved. It had been placed against the far wall and above it the boards had been pulled from the window. The piece of curtain that hung from the window now lay on the floor by the bed. Sam pulled at his collar which had become unbearably tight and walked towards the sink. There weren't any cigarette butts floating in the water, there was no water just a steady drip from the faucet that beat out a rhythm three times slower than Sam's heart.

Sam felt a prickly sensation run down his back and he spun round. Blood was pumping furiously in his ears and he had to strain to hear anything else. He peeked out at the hallway and finding it empty returned to the room and sank down on the bed. The bedding was gone but the thin mattress remained, its smell instantly taking Sam back to the hours he had spent coiled up on it waiting for the door to open and Incul to appear. He jumped up from the bed and ran from the room slamming the door behind him. Images, long repressed, were bombarding him and with them came the fear as raw as when he had first felt it.

He fumbled with the front door, the action only serving to remind him of his fumbled escape from the house. He ran outside leaving the door swinging behind him. In his haste to get away he ran along the path and stumbled against the bush that led to the road. The memories continued to assault him compounded by his unwitting reconstruction of his escape from the house.

Finally, he found himself in an open space and bent over, resting his hands on his knees and taking deep breaths. The curtains twitched behind him as Mrs Delaney peered through them. In front of him, Toby folded his paper, threw the cigar out of the window and got out of his car.

"Come on, it's okay." Sam felt his arm being pulled and followed Toby to the car. He heard the door being shut and felt the car rock as Toby got in beside him. "I knew this was a bad idea," Toby mumbled before saying more loudly. "You alright? Can I…what can I do?"

Sam shook his head and continued to take deep breaths his knuckles white from their death grip on his knees. Toby waited. Once Sam's breathing had evened out Toby pulled his seatbelt across and clipped it in beckoning for Sam to do the same. "Where do you want to go?" he asked as he watched Sam fumble with the belt. He was so sure that Sam would say home or work that Sam's reply made him turn in his seat towards him. "You sure?" Sam nodded and Toby shook his head and pulled onto the road, headed for the National Art Gallery.

"Josh brought me here," Sam explained as he led Toby through the ticket barrier and towards the Sculpture Garden. "He comes here to think."

"Does he?" Toby asked equally impressed as Sam had been when Josh had said it to him.

"No," Sam replied and smiled as he walked towards the fountain in the centre of the green.

The sound of the water coupled with bird song conspired to rid Sam of the images that lingered from the house. He placed his hands behind him on the ledge of the fountain and lifted his face to the sun. Toby uncrossed his legs and tried to make himself comfortable. Both men removed their jackets and loosened their ties. "Do you want to grab an ice cream?" Sam asked and he was up and walking towards the kiosk before Toby could answer.

A little girl ran by Toby a balloon bobbing above her. Toby remembered the elevator and the child with the balloon. 'It a girl, it a girl, it a girl'.

"Toby?" Sam's voice brought Toby back to the present. "I was saying, what time do we need to be back?"

"No time, there's no rush, I've got nothing scheduled." Toby scooped the last of the ice cream from his tub and threw the container in the trash. "Where do you want to go now?"

The man seemed to know so much about the bells at the Old Post Office Tower that Toby wondered why he didn't set up as a tour guide and charge for the service he was unwittingly offering. He and Sam stood behind him and listened as he told his wife the history of the bells in the tower. The man's homily was interrupted though when his wife complained that she didn't spend seven dollars on a guide book to listen to him droning on.

Sam stepped up to where the man had been and looked at the diagram of the bells.

Toby put his hands in his pockets, uninterested in improving his knowledge of DC history and happy to just watch the people passing and to enjoy his unexpected time out of the office.

"We should get back to work," Sam said as he turned away from the notice board and walked towards Toby.

Toby stayed where he was. He knew the last place Sam wanted to be was the White House and so he waited for him to tell him the real reason for his sudden desire to leave. Sam sat down on a bench and Toby joined him.

"Tell me about the bells again. Ron told me but I didn't really take it in. He said something about a man called Gordon or Gary-"

"Graham," Toby interrupted and proceeded to tell Sam about Graham and his wires and machines and how he had taped the sound of the bells when Sam had called Leo.

The popcorn and soda that Sam and Toby had while they watched a documentary about Washington in the Post Office theatre was enough to keep them going as they walked around the tropical greenhouse room at the Botanic Gardens.

After a lengthy speech by Sam on the possible relative humidity in the room, Toby stopped and sighed. "What am I doing?" he asked as he wiped at his moist forehead.

"You're playing hooky, Toby," Sam explained. "We're hookying."

"Well, there's no such word and even if there was, we're not, we're just…"

"Playing hooky, is what we're doing, and I gotta say, you're turning out to be quite a fine hookying partner."

"There's no such word! It's just hooky, I am playing hooky, we are playing hooky, yesterday we played hooky, tomorrow we will be playing hooky…"

The gardener tending to the giant ferns turned as the men walked behind him and stared after them until he could no longer see them or hear their bizarre conversation.

"I'm hiding behind a pillar," Toby mumbled, "I'm standing behind a pillar in the US Department of Commerce because Sam wants to see the giant shark tank in the Washington Aquarium."

"You're overreacting. It's not my fault the aquarium's in the basement of the commerce building. Anyway, that probably wasn't Senator Matthews, probably just someone who looked like him. You know what, I think if we make for those stairs now we can get there before the Senator comes back."

Toby mumbled something and followed him as he walked quickly towards the entrance to the aquarium. Minutes later he was silently standing beside Sam watching the sharks gliding effortlessly through the water. He turned and looked at Sam. The light reflected from the water rippled across his face. Toby smiled at the look of wonder on Sam's face and then turned his attention back to the sharks.

"Forty-four," Sam announced as he hurried to catch up with Toby.

"Forty-four what?"

"That's how many Elms we've walked by. There are 2000 along the Mall and

they're-"

"You're counting the Elms?" Toby asked incredulously.

"Well yeah, aren't you?

"No!"

"I'm just not convinced that there are 2000. I mean, you think the guy that planted these planted exactly 2000? I don't know much about botany, but I know that seeds are pretty small and I think that if-"

"Oh God, I think I preferred it when you were trying to conjugate the verb 'hooky'."

They walked on enjoying the sunshine punctuated by the shadows from the Elms. "If I was the guy who planted the Elms I think I'd have planted 2003 just to see if-"

"Shut up!"

"Okay," Sam agreed and they walked on in silence.

When they pulled up outside Sam's apartment later that evening Josh was sitting on the steps waiting for them.

"Where have you been?" he said before they had even reached the first step.

"We took some personal time," Toby explained.

"You work at the White House, you don't get personal time"

"We were playing hooky," Sam whispered as he passed Josh and keyed in the code to open the door.

"Leo said you were called away to the Hill." Josh was close to whining.

"Leo obviously places personal time more highly for his staff than you do." Toby pushed past Josh and followed Sam up the stairs.

"Why didn't you ask me? I'm great at playing hooky. They used to call me the Hooky Master at high school."

"It was spontaneous," Sam explained opening the door to his apartment and throwing his coat over a chair.

"Hooky usually is, the best hooky anyway." Josh went straight to Sam's fridge and pulled out three beers.

"We got you something though." Sam picked up his coat and rummaged in the pockets. "Here."

Josh took the proffered gift and pulled it out of the bag. "I saw the sharks at Washington Aquarium," he read from the bright green pen. "Thanks but, you know, I didn't see the sharks. It should say 'I would have seen the sharks if my friends had let me play hooky with them'."

Sam sat down heavily on the sofa and reached for a beer. Josh passed him one before sitting down next to him. "The next important piece of paper I sign, I'm gonna sign it with this," he said holding the pen up before tucking it into his pocket.

"Atta' boy," Sam mumbled as he closed his eyes and let his head sink into the cushions. They sat in silence, enjoying the cold beer. When Sam fell asleep, Toby told Josh about the events that had led to their day out of the office. He told him how proud he was of Sam and how, for the first time since he had been kidnapped, he had glimpsed the old Sam that at times they had feared would not return.

"You should tell him that," Josh replied as he peeled the label from his bottle.

"I will, right after I tell him that I think it's time he talked to the President."

"You should probably tell him you're proud of him before you tell him that. In fact, I'd tell him before and after just to be on the safe side."

"I will and I'll keep telling him because I am proud of him, and I don't think I've told him that enough, and I thank God everyday that I got a chance to."

They sat in silence then. Happy to wait for Sam to wake before they left for home, thankful they had been given the chance to do so.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-five

Sam ignored Toby's presence at the window and waited for him to appear in his office as he knew he would.

"You don't need to finish those remarks today," Toby said from the doorway. Sam nodded without looking up. "You don't have to, because the President won't be back from his trip until late."

"Yeah" Sam stopped typing and looked up, "was there something else?"

"No, I'm just saying the President's out today." Toby walked into the room and straightened a file on Sam's desk. "So, if you wanted to see Leo about what you wrote yesterday you could go up to his office."

Sam rummaged through a pile of papers on his desk. "So he's out all day?"

"Yeah."

Sam nodded, walked past Toby and headed towards Leo's office.

Leo was expecting Sam and after telling him to sit down, left the office briefly to speak to Margaret. He acted as if Sam's presence in his office was nothing out of the ordinary. He read through Sam's notes, said, "Yeah, go with that," and dismissed Sam. It was only when he stepped out of Leo's office and saw Charlie in the doorway that he knew something wasn't right. Before the knowledge that where Charlie was the President was, kicked in, he saw the man that his friends had so successfully kept him from for so long. "Mr President," Sam said as he took the few steps from Margaret's office towards Charlie's desk.

The President tried to make it look like he had simply run into Sam on his way from the Oval Office but Sam knew he had been set up. He was relieved when he realised that the President had no intention of engaging him in conversation. He simply held out his hand, shook Sam's warmly and told him it was good to see him. Sam waited for the President to leave the office and go back to the Oval whilst he glared at Charlie for his part in the plot.

Just as he was about to enter his office, the President stopped. "Charlie, I'm going to work from the Residence today. Don't disturb me unless there's a war but if anyone should want to talk to me that's where I'll be."

Leo thought the charade would have played out by the time he entered the room but he arrived just in time to see a furious Sam storming away.

Toby had decided that a visit to the Mess might be a good idea but realised he was too late when his door slamming heralded the return of Sam.

"You set me up!"

"Calm down."

"Calm down! I was calm. I was perfectly calm until the President entered stage left, dead on cue."

Toby walked round his desk and towards Sam motioning to the sofa. Sam ignored him and remained standing by the door, hands on hips, staring at Toby in a mixture of anger and disbelief.

"I didn't set you up. I gave you a way in. It's time, Sam." Toby flinched at the sound of Sam's snort and kicked himself as he remembered what it was he hadn't done. He had told Sam it was time to talk to the President but he had forgotten the bit about being proud of him. He had planned to talk to Sam later that night but the sudden cancellation of the President's trip had presented too good an opportunity to miss. "Okay, I can see why you feel like that but however we got here, we're here, so let's make the most of it. Today is the day that you are going to get rid of all this…whatever the hell it is that's keeping you where you are because I don't care anymore if you're ready to move on or not. I'm ready to move on. I need you to be as well because we're a team." Toby swiped at his forehead and sat down wearily on the sofa. "We're Batman and Robin, Sam, and Batman wasn't much without the Boy Wonder."

Sam's hands left his hips. That was the first sign he was calming down. He stared at the floor and Toby heard a long sigh before his head finally lifted. "Okay." He sighed again. "You'll be in your office when I'm done?"

"I'll be in my office."

Sam straightened his tie and cleared his throat. Sam felt like he had been waiting for hours. Finally, the door opened and Charlie emerged with an encouraging smile and a nod. He held the door for Sam who stayed frozen for a moment before nodding in return and entering the room.

"Mr President," Sam said as he walked towards the sofa where the President sat.

As Sam approached, he stood and held out his left hand. "Sam."

The two men stood face to face, unsure what to do next. The awkward silence was ended by an equally awkward attempt by both men to end it. Sam asked Bartlet why the trip was cancelled at the same time as he asked Sam if he'd like a drink. Both questions remained unanswered but served to lighten the atmosphere and Bartlet gestured to the sofa. They sat in what Sam would later describe to Toby as a companionable uncomfortable silence. It was Bartlet who ended it.

"I didn't think you would come. I told Leo he was playing a dangerous game but I'm glad it worked."

"You know you could have just told me to come and see you."

"I could have done but I wanted the choice to be yours ultimately even though you were really coerced into this. Maybe I wanted to feel as if you wanted to come." Bartlet stared at Sam whose expression was unreadable.

"Well, here I am." Sam shuffled back slightly and tried to relax.

"Here you are. Would you like something to drink, some coffee perhaps, tea, whisky?"

Sam shook his head, "I'm sorry if I've…" for the first time since entering the room, Sam looked at straight at the President. "I'm sorry if I've made things awkward…my working arrangements since I've been back…I'm sorry if they've-"

"I've missed your voice, Sam, in the Oval Office. I've missed your counsel. I hope you feel like you can return to your former role soon." Sam nodded in response and Bartlet knew that if he didn't change the course of the conversation, Sam would apologise again, leave and they would be nowhere further on than they were before. "Do you stay away because you blame me?" The question was direct and Bartlet was almost as surprised at asking it as Sam was at hearing it.

"No! God, no, I…do you think that's how I feel? Do you think that I still blame you for not getting me out of there?"

Bartlet shrugged. "I don't know what you think. I know that you were kidnapped and I was told that if I didn't do certain things you would be harmed. I know I didn't do those things and if I was you I think I'd be pretty pissed about that." Sam was giving him nothing so he continued. "I know that Charlie had to stop Josh from storming into the Oval three times and one of those times he was so drunk, two agents had to help him back to his office. I know that Leo was violently sick after every telephone call to Javier and I sat up all night with him more than once because if I hadn't he'd have passed the time with a bottle." Sam looked up at this and found that The President was pacing in front of him. "I know the fact that you are here with us has nothing to do with me and everything to do with your ingenuity and strength of character. I know I thank God for you everyday, Sam, and curse my own weakness when I lived in fear of seeing Ron walking into my office to tell me that you were dead. I know all this, and yet I know nothing so I need to know- do you blame me?"

Sam stared at Bartlet for a few moments before turning away and staring at his clasped hands. "I don't blame you. I know you were bound to respond the way you did. I see that and I totally understand." Bartlet nodded and sat back down next to Sam.

Sam's mind was reeling with the images that the President had just described. He continued to stare at his hands until he felt composed. He studied the scar that ran along his forefinger where the skin had been split by Incul's gun. Finally he took a deep breath. "Do you remember when President Miguel told you that he was willing to let Juan Aguilar out of prison in exchange for five American hostages and I argued that you should do it?"

"Let's argue principles when these five guys get home."

"I'm sorry?" Sam turned and faced Bartlet.

"That's what you said when you were trying to persuade me to go for Miguel's offer. You said you understood the principle but there were real lives at stake."

"I did." Sam nodded. "I understand the principle," he confirmed. "The thing is…what I don't understand…"

Bartlet waited, he knew Sam was close to finally revealing his true feelings and he didn't dare speak for fear of silencing him.

"I don't understand-" he stood and walked away from the sofa. "It's not that I don't understand it's that I can't deal with it, I think that's what I mean, I can't deal with the fact that you…" Sam rubbed at his face, sighed and turned back towards the sofa, "This sounds ludicrous but…they were going to kill me and you were going to let that happen and I can't deal with that."

Bartlet had expected Sam to say something like this. He knew for certain that Sam wouldn't be arguing against his stance on non-negotiation and so had tried to prepare himself for whatever Sam would say. He tried to prepare himself but hearing Sam ask him why he had let this happen to him made Bartlet feel the same sense of helplessness and despair that he had felt every day that Sam was missing.

"That doesn't sound ludicrous, Sam. It makes perfect sense to me."

"Yeah, because it doesn't to me! It's like I've got this internal dialogue going on all the time and one voice is political reason and the other is plain, naked fear and a sense of abandonment that I can't even begin to explain."

Bartlet stood, walked past Sam and poured two generous measures of Bourbon before returning to the sofa. "You explained the census to CJ, I'm pretty confident you can explain your 'dialogue' to me."

A ghost of a smile flashed across Sam's face. He took the offered glass and walked over to the fireplace. "I can rationalise what happened, I know that if it had been CJ or Josh or Toby you'd have reacted exactly the same way."

"Sam, if it had been Zoe or Abby I'd have reacted the same way."

"I know, I know that but I can't always tell myself that. I can't always be rationale about it because the memories of what they did aren't rationale, they're jumbled and disturbing and they don't…well let's just say they're not conducive to rationale thought processes." Sam turned away from the fireplace and walked back towards the President. "That's why I didn't want to see you or go anywhere near the office because no matter how much I understood your reasons, I knew that the irrational thoughts would win out and I'd end up screaming at you or totally losing it." Sam took a long sip of his drink, "As clearly demonstrated by the flying china cup debacle."

"I wasn't too keen on having you in the Oval after that, myself, I've only got five of those left you know."

Sam smiled again and visibly relaxed. He sat down next to Bartlet, any notions of correct protocol when it came to standing and sitting, long since abandoned.

"I just find it…" Sam took a deep breath and sank back against the cushions. "I find it so hard to get back to what it was like before."

"That's a bit of a tall order don't you think? You've been through a horrific experience physically and mentally. I'm not sure things will go back to what they were."

"Yeah, I don't think they will either but I keep trying to make them because I really don't like where I am at the moment."

Bartlet leant forward, no longer worried about silencing Sam, "And where is that, Sam?"

"Confused mostly, scared constantly, doubting everything."

"Did you come back to work too soon? Would some time away help?"

"I don't think so. I like to be here, circumnavigating the Oval Office." Sam smiled sheepishly. "Maybe I've been trying too hard to get back to normal when what I should have been doing is working on how to cope with moving on? It helped to hear what it was like for you all. Nobody will tell me what they went through, but I need to know because then I don't picture you all sitting round drinking coffee casually deciding not to cancel the Colombian Dinner."

"You don't think that do you!"

"No, that's my irrational internal dialogue, you got that right, with the rational and irrational internal dialogue thing?"

"Yeah, Sam, I got that." Bartlet smiled, shook his head and took Sam's empty glass to be refilled.

They sat in silence for a while but this time it was a comfortable silence. After a while, Sam talked a little more about his feelings and Bartlet listened. By the time the glasses were being filled for a third time, Sam had agreed to a month's paid leave, arrangements to speak to a psychiatrist friend of Abbey's and to come back to his normal role when he did return to work. By the time the First Lady returned from a private function, Sam was telling Bartlet that at the Great Falls in Montana more Golden Eagles had been seen in a single day than anywhere else in the country and he was replying with the fact that Montana has the largest migratory elk herd in the nation.

"Is this a private geek party or can anyone join in?" Abby asked as she threw her wrap onto a chair and walked over to the two men. She had known of the plan to get Sam and her husband together and was secretly relieved to find Sam sitting in the living room. She kissed Bartlet and then Sam. "Show me your hand," she instructed, suddenly in doctor mode. She studied Sam's fingers carefully and patted his hand before letting go. "They did a good job."

"They did," Sam agreed, pleased with himself at the thought that a couple of weeks ago he would have broken out in a cold sweat if anyone looked that closely at his damaged hand. She kissed her husband again, said goodnight and left them to it.

"Montana has the largest grizzly bear population in the lower 48 states," Sam said as he took a slow sip of his drink.

"Yeah, but I'm not going to let you have that one."

"Why not? It's trivia, it's about Montana!"

"It's grizzly bear trivia more than Montana trivia," Bartlet explained.

"Well in that case I'm taking the migratory elk one off your score then because they were just passing through."

Bartlet frowned. "The bitterroot is the official state flower."

"Montana's name comes from the Spanish word, mountain."

Abbey listened for a while to the two voices. Smiling at the fact that they truly were having a geek party, smiling at the fact they were talking at all.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-six

"Laurie and Sam, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i- Ow! What did you do that for?" Josh said as he rubbed his head.

"My therapist said I shouldn't hold my feelings in and that if I'm finding a situation difficult I should let those around me know." Sam sifted through the pile of mail that was on his desk. After his talk with the President he had gone away to Boston and today was his first day back. "I was finding your juvenile response to the news that I have been staying with Laurie difficult to deal with so I let my feelings known."

Josh sat down in the visitor chair. "Well I don't think your therapist's advice was to hit me."

Sam glanced up from a letter. "Josh, everyone's advice is that I should hit you."

Josh turned serious and rested his arms on the desk. "Can you at least tell me if you slept together?"

"Josh!"

"What? I'm concerned about your welfare! You have this thing with women and their big stiletto heals and I'm just looking out for you."

Sam smiled and shook his head as he sat down. Finished with his mail, he opened his laptop.

Josh leant back and studied his friend for a while. "So, Toby tells me you're doing Capital Beat on Thursday."

"Yeah, it's the Clean Rivers thing."

"You up to that?"

"Yeah, it's time I got back to…you know…it's time."

Josh nodded and made his way to the door. He was about to go when Sam called out to him.

"Black stripes."

"What?" Josh walked back into the room.

"Capital Beat, Thursday, black stripes," Sam said as he stared at his laptop.

"I don't…oh, your tie!" Josh whispered.

Sam smiled, shrugged and carried on typing. His smile widened as he watched a grinning Josh head off to find Ginger, no doubt to place the first bet in the latest Capital Beat neck-tie book.

Ginger was reluctant to open her book again on Sam's choice of tie for his appearance on Thursday and Josh had to work hard to convince her that Sam didn't mind. He also had to do it without letting her realise he _knew_ Sam didn't mind because Sam had tipped him off about which tie to bet on.

"I think I'll go for the beat-tie, no wait, plain blue…actually, make it…yeah, I'll go for black stripes."

Ginger wrote Josh's bet down, took his money and the book was open again.

Sam knew Toby was watching him. He had been aware of it for the past hour. Every so often, Toby would appear at the adjoining window and stare at him. The next time Toby stood and walked over to the window Sam wasn't in his office. He stood and stared in anyway, taking in the sights of Sam's occupation. The glasses left on the pad, the half-finished bagel and coffee and the collection of scrunched up paper littering the bin. These unremarkable items bought a comfort to Toby that he would never admit to. Sam was with them again.

"I escaped," Sam said, suddenly appearing behind Toby and making him jump. He had meant he'd escaped from his office but Toby's face showed no amusement at the remark. "Toby?"

"Sorry, I was miles away," he said returning to stare through the window.

Sam stood beside him. "You know, I pictured this a lot when I was away." Toby had started to use the term 'away' when referring to Sam's abduction and now everyone else had adopted it as well. "I used to close my eyes and try to picture my office, all the things on my desk, in my drawers. When I had done that and opened my eyes and realised I was still in…hell, then I would picture yours and Josh's. Sometimes I'd try to picture the walk from the front desk to the West Wing. It just…I don't know, it just made me feel better I suppose to try to go to a place where I felt safe."

"Do you feel safe now?" Toby asked. He had never been able to forget Sam's confession that everything scared him when Toby had woken him from a nightmare.

"I do. I never thought I would again, but I do." Toby reached up and squeezed Sam's shoulder. They stayed like that until Ginger tapped on the door.

"Toby, I just wanted to see if-" she looked up from her piece of paper and saw Sam. "Oh, Sam, you're here. It doesn't matter I'll come back."

"No, no, Ginger, you go ahead," Sam said. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Ginger wanted to ask and was pretty sure it had something to do with ties.

"Okay, well, Toby, I was just wondering if you'd decided yet about the thing?"

"The thing?" Toby asked.

"The thing on Thursday," Ginger expanded. Sam busied himself pretending to look at something on Toby's desk and hoped they couldn't see his smile while Ginger pointed surreptitiously at her throat.

"Oh the thing! Yeah, here," Toby grabbed a slip of paper and quickly scribbled on it and handed it to her. Ginger left quickly.

"I better get get back to it. Do you want to look at what I've done so far?" Sam asked as he moved towards the door.

"No, you carry on, get it done."

"Okay, oh and Toby…" Toby looked up to see Sam pointing to his tie and mouthing the word 'red'. Sam returned to his office and couldn't resist a quiet chuckle as he heard Toby yell Ginger's name.

Sam stood and looked at himself in the mirror. No physical signs remained of his ordeal. Only someone who knew what had happened and made a point of noticing would see the difference in Sam's hand or the way it still sometimes let him down in dexterity or strength. Only someone who had known Sam before would notice the quiet spells he sometimes drifted into or the occasional need to leave a room suddenly. When it happened no one went after him and no one commented on it. Sam always came back and the episodes were happening less often.

Sam took a deep breath and studied his reflection more critically. He needed a haircut, he decided, but it was too late now, he was due at the Capital Beat studio in an hour. He turned to his bed and looked at the assortment of ties laid out. He had managed to tip-off everyone he could think of. Donna had been easy he had simply asked her if she liked his tie and winked. CJ had been harder, as Sam thought that if anyone would guess what he was up to it would be her. He had gone to her office, commented on a news story about Princeton and asked if she knew what Princeton's tie looked like. She didn't and so Sam had gone on to describe it in great detail adding that it was a tie worthy of being on television, filmed for posterity. He had seen her hurrying after Ginger not long after.

He had repeated his ruse so many times that he had forgotten to decide which tie he was actually going to wear and so found himself looking at his collection desperately trying to work out what he had said to whom. The phone ringing ended his deliberations.

"What am I betting on then?"

"Okay, well, you see I'm having a problem with that," Sam explained.

"Sam! You're due on air in an hour! I'm meant to go to Ginger and casually place a last minute bet. If I don't do it soon she's going to close the book."

"Okay, okay, just give me a minute…okay here we go…I'm looking now…everything's under control…" Sam rummaged through the ties. "Do you think a tie with yellow fish on it would look bad on television?"

"Sam!"

"Okay, wow, remind me not to do a scam with you again. You have to keep cool you know, the whole point of scamming is to make the-"

"Sam, I'm due at a briefing in fifteen minutes if you don't hurry up and tell me what tie you're really going to be wearing there's not going to be a scam just a big pot for next time."

"Got it!" Sam cried in reply. "You said there was a bet for a pink patterned that no one had taken, right?"

"Yep, not pink striped that's gone."

"I know. That was Leo, man that was hard work."

"So, pink patterned, you're sure?"

"Yes, although I think I should point out it's a man's pink not a pink pink, you know not a pink like a girl would wear if girls wore-"

"Okay $40 on pink patterned at 9-1, great, I'm on way."

Sam thanked his partner in crime, put his tie on and hurried down to his car.

A small crowd had gathered in the Communications Bullpen. Josh rushed in to join them just as the opening credits to Capital Beat began. The faces turned towards the TV set were all trying hard to hide smug smiles as they thought of the tip that Sam had given them. The opening titles disappeared and Mark Godfrey's face filled the screen introducing his guests and the topics they would discuss.

"Come on, come on," Charlie whispered. He had placed a large sum on a black polka dot.

The screen cut to Sam on an agonizing close-up that still didn't reveal his tie. Sam smiled at the host and started to answer his question as the camera slowly zoomed out.

"Yes!" Josh shouted in triumph at the first sight of the tie. "Wait a minute…what the…"

Josh's words of bewilderment were drowned out by the similar sentiments of his bemused fellow viewers. One sound drowned them all out: Toby's laughter.

Josh turned and glared at him. "Sam made it very clear to me exactly which tie he would be wearing and from the looks of it he did the same thing to everyone in this room!

"I know for a fact that you bet on a red one so I don't know why you're finding this so funny?" Josh fumed.

The crowd had begun to disperse, many of them shaking their heads and smiling as they swapped notes on how Sam had played them. They stopped when a call came across the Bullpen. "Ginger, am I okay to collect my winnings now?"

Ginger nodded and the man walked towards her. "Forty dollars on pink patterned at 5-1," she confirmed. She started to count the money out and then, sighing a huge sigh, she handed all of the money over.

The man took it and smiled. He nodded at Josh as he passed.

"Hi, Ron," Josh said despondently.

Toby shook his head and tried his best to stop grinning, aware of how unsettling it appeared to be for Josh. "Sam has spent the last few days ingeniously managing to hint at his choice of neckwear in such a way that had everyone running around after Ginger." He walked into his office and Josh followed. "Think back though, did Sam actually tell you what tie he was going to wear?"

Josh slumped on the sofa and thought about his conversation with Sam. "Well no, not in so many words but he hinted and a hint is as good as a nod as…as…some people say."

"It's wink: a _wink_ is as good as a nod to a blind man!" Toby perched on his desk and finally his expression returned to its more serious countenance. "I don't care that I've lost thirty dollars and I don't care that Sam has managed to turn Ginger's lucrative book into liquidation and the reason I don't care is that every minute Sam spent plotting and carrying out his plan was a minute that he wasn't dwelling on what happened to him or watching the walls close in on him or questioning his place in this White House."

"And this must have taken some planning," Josh said in admiration.

"Yep and when was the last time you looked at Sam and feared what was going through his head?" Toby asked.

"So what you're saying is that you don't think we need to do that anymore. You think we can go back to just being really worried about what might be going through his head?" Josh asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Toby replied. "Just like old times."

By the time Sam returned from the Capital Beat studio there were a few emails and notes waiting for him. Toby peered into his office and watched him read them. "You may want to think about not staying in your office," Toby advised.

"No kidding," Sam said as he read another email from one of his victims. "You know, I don't think people have taken my actions in the spirit in which they were intended."

"And what spirit was that?" Toby asked following Sam to the coffee machine.

"I was merely, as an upstanding member of the senior staff, attempting to show my colleagues the dangers that lie in the path of those who choose to gamble. Lady Luck is a fickle companion, Toby, and the responsibility rests with the likes of me to take every step necessary to help those infatuated with her." Sam took a sip of his coffee and walked over to Ginger. "Take Ginger for example, one minute she's running an innocent little book on my choice of tie and before you know it she's doing the Dance of the Seven Veils at the Palomino Club."

Ginger rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Sam, for saving me from my evil syndicate."

"You're very welcome, Ginger," Sam replied and then, spotting Josh, he called out across the Bullpen. "Hey, Josh! Wanna come and help me work out what to spend my winnings on?"

Josh glared at Sam and walked over to Toby. "Tell Sam I would rather tie myself naked to the White House fence and sing folk songs."

"Josh says he would rather tie himself…" Toby trailed off. "Hang on…your winnings. I thought Ron placed the bet?"

"He did, but for me," Sam replied.

"What!" Josh cried, forgetting that he wasn't talking to Sam. "You can't place a bet on which tie you're going to wear! You know which tie you're going to wear!"

"Josh, Josh, Josh," Sam shook his head. "I did it for you. Toby, tell him about Lady Luck and the Palomini Club," Sam said as he returned to his office.

Bartlet was lying on the sofa in the Oval Office a book held above his head. He shifted slightly and swapped hands so that he could hold the book more comfortably. Leo entered from his office and walked over to the other door and waited for The President to notice him."

"Leo, did you know that Coolidge refused to use the telephone when he was in office?"

"No, Sir."

"How do you think it would go down if I took the same stance?"

"Not too well," Leo answered as he put his hand on the door handle. "Come and look at this, will ya."

Bartlet peered at him over his book then placed it down and followed Leo out of the room.

They walked in silence, two agents following at a discreet distance. They walked into the Communications' Bullpen which was in darkness. Leo put his fingers to his lips and nodded towards Toby office. Bartlet stepped up beside him and looked into the room. He could see CJ's head just above the sofa and next to it, lower down, was Sam's. Toby was at his desk his feet on its edge and Josh was sitting on the other side in a similar position. Bartlet could hear their voices clearly.

"Got one!" Josh cried and turned his laptop screen towards Toby. "The Turn 2 Foundation founded by Derek Jeter to promote healthy lifestyles."

Toby snorted into his whiskey before taking a long sip. "We don't want to fund health-freaks!"

CJ had come into Toby's office earlier to find Josh bemoaning the fact that Sam was going to give his winnings to charity. Sam had soon joined them and as it was getting late, Chinese food had been ordered in. A little while later, Toby had opened a bottle that he kept in his filing cabinet and now, four hours later, they were still in his office trying to find the perfect charity.

Sam and CJ sat and listened to the suggested charities. CJ's feet were resting on the coffee table and Sam was resting against her. Her arm was loosely wrapped around him and his right hand was held by her. Occasionally she stroked her thumb across it, only too aware of the significance of Sam letting his hand been seen, let alone held.

"Truth in Labelling Campaign," Toby said as he read from his laptop.

"Are there untruths in food labelling?" Sam asked in mock despair.

Toby chuckled, a sure sign that the whiskey was going down well. "Actually, don't give to them; consumers need to be kept on their toes."

Sam shuffled down and out of view of Leo and The President but they could see Toby stand up and refill Sam's glass before returning to his laptop. "Here's one-

Philadelphia Young Playwrights." Most of Toby's suggestions had been sensible ones.

"No, I couldn't do it," Sam replied. "I'd feel like I'd neglected the old playwrights."

"The Brevard Rare Fruit Council," CJ said. Sam could feel the vibrations from her chest as she spoke and closed his eyes.

"Where did that come from?" Josh asked.

"I don't know, but I had to contact them for some information and their name just came to me. Brevard Rare Fruit Council," she repeated, caught Toby's eye and smiled.

Toby raised his glass to her and returned the smile before looking at his deputy. "You alright there, Sam?"

Leo and Bartlet watched as Josh turned his attention from the laptop and towards Sam only looking back down again when Sam answered that he was fine.

"Okay," Josh removed his feet from the desk and sat up. "Oh man, I've got a great one here- , protecting employees from bad bosses." He looked up at Sam and returned the grin that greeted him.

"Sam, if you give your ill-gotten gains to that charity you'll really find out more than you ever wanted to know about badbossology," Toby warned.

Sam snuggled even more against CJ and smiled. "Okay, well find me a deserving cause then."

Bartlet put his hands in his pockets and sighed. He leant towards Leo and whispered, "If you'd told me a few months ago that I'd be standing here watching Toby, Josh, CJ and Sam behaving like…well, Toby, Josh, CJ and Sam, I wouldn't have believed you." Bartlet glanced at his friend and shook his head. "We nearly lost them all, Leo. If we'd have lost Sam we'd have lost them all."

Leo nodded and quietly the two men took one last look at the small group inside Toby's office and walked out of the Bullpen.

"Send a Cow!" Josh cried as he carefully wiped the drips from his glass, the drink having slurped over the edge as he had sat up abruptly. "Send a Cow, Sam. The title alone is worthy of a donation."

"Send a Cow," Sam repeated, his words slightly slurred.

"It's all about sending cows to Ugandan smallholders and farmers to help boost milk production," Josh explained.

Sam pushed himself into a sitting position but didn't remove his hand from CJ's. He looked at Toby, then Josh, before nodding. "Send a Cow, it is."

"Thank God for that," Toby sighed. The room became silent. Toby switched his laptop off and leant back in his chair. He watched Josh staring at Sam a small smile playing on his lips. Toby wondered if Josh was now able to look at Sam with an appreciation of what was rather than lingering fears of what might have been. He had only been able to do that himself recently. CJ pulled Sam's hand up to her mouth and kissed it.

Sam laughed sleepily. "What was that for?" When CJ didn't answer he hoisted himself up and turned to face her. She smiled at him but her eyes were red.

"It's alright."

CJ nodded, "I know, just, sometimes…"

Sam smiled and lifting CJ's hand repeated her gesture. Being here with his friends, feeling safe and feeling like he belonged, conjured up emotions in Sam that he feared he would never feel again. It had taken time, but he had found his way back. "A toast!" he said reaching for his glass. He tried to think of the words to express his gratitude to his friends and to tell them what it meant to be here with them.

Josh could see Sam faltering and stood and raised his glass. "Send a cow!" he toasted. Sam laughed as he repeated the toast, CJ and Toby joining in, their glasses chinking amidst the quiet chuckles as the four reached out to each other.


End file.
